Pictures are Worth a Thousand Words
by ii Digestive Reader ii
Summary: Even in a galaxy far, far away, pictures have a way of showing the past and revealing the truth. The chronilogical version of "Pictures are Worth a Thousand Words" (Clone Wars, Prequel era, OG era)
1. Yan Dooku

Chapter One: Yan Dooku

* * *

"My padawan believes we're pining for each other."

Jocasta Nu jumps, turning around from the shelf behind her desk to the tall, smirking man across from the desk. The light from the rising sun behind him gives him a halo, highlighting the gray at his temples. "Yan Dooku! How many times do I have to tell you - do not scare me like that!"

"You're a Jedi - you should have sensed it."

"Yan."

He has yet to come around the desk and embrace her - his hands are folded behind his cloak, probably hiding a wound of some sort. "I've been back for two hours and I get a lecture? I should head back to - "

"Don't you dare," Jocasta mutters, using a holo-book to poke at his chest. "The Temple has been quiet without your shenanigans."

"Eloquent words, my dear Jo."

She rolls her eyes, leaning her elbows against the desk. "Why are you in the library so early? It's not even dawn yet."

"Giving you," Yan pulled out a banquet of Asyr flowers, "these."

"You can't find these on Coruscant." Jocasta murmurs, taking the banquet gently and brushing her index finger over the stigma. Bits of pollen fall onto her skin. "How did you smuggle them in?"

"No one searches a Jedi."

Jocasta shakes her head, braid squishing against her back. "These need water - I'm sure I have a vase somewhere in the supply closet."

Yan smiles, then turns his head when some young knights walk into the library. He blinks in surprise when a kiss is pressed to his cheek..

"I don't know how much you can pine for someone you've been seeing for twenty years, darling."

"Is that the reason for the cot in your office?"

She swats his arm, though there's a smile on her face while she wanders to the supply office.

* * *

"You commed me tipsy at 11:30pm Qui," Tahl mumbles, spitting in the sink.

"Ah."

She pokes her head around the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth. It was a bit amusing, watching the large hunk of a man sit up in bed and rub at his neck "I'm not expecting anything Qui."

Qui-Gon sighs, glancing around the small bedroom crammed with little knick-knacks and plants. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in her apartment - well, in this part of the apartment. The clock - an actual clock, with gears and hands and everything - reads 5:17am.

She went back into the bathroom for a moment.

"11:30? How drunk could I have been at 11:30pm?"

"Like I said - tipsy, not drunk." Tahl comes back out, wrapping her long hair in a ponytail and straddling his legs. She raised her eyebrows a little. "It was consensual."

"I didn't believe it wasn't."

Tahl smiles softly, touching his chest. "Xanatos again?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Qui-Gon covers her hand, sighing while he turned her palm upwards and traced the calluses.

"Your lineage is terrible at communicating."

"Terrible?" He chuckles, shoulders shaking and voice bemused.

"Fucking horrible." Tahl rolls her eyes while he brought her fingers to his lips. "I hate that scruff of yours."

"Hate is a strong word." He presses a kiss to her wrist, glancing at her. "We're Jedi, we don't throw such a cruel word around."

Shaking her head, Tahl has to laugh. "No, you're not convincing me to have sex - I have a meeting in an hour."

"Plenty of time."

* * *

_Author's note: well hello there ;)_

_I decided to put "Pictures are Worth a Thousand Words" into a singular, cochise story - so now, we can all read all the little scenes - plus about five new scenes, minus maybe three - right in a row, without being confused about timeline and whatnot._

_I know the original format of "Pictures" was confusing for a lot of people, and some people even sent me hate about it. My only defense, if you can call it that, is I wrote "Pictures" in the style I did originally because a lot of my friends - myself included - have ADHD, and they were often complaining they didn't have the energy or focus to read a singular story. So hence the vignette style._

_Enjoy. I won't have many - or maybe any - author's notes on the rest of the chapters, since I've already written this story._

_Expect this story to be fully updated by this time next week :)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


	2. Lineage Problems

Chapter Two: Lineage Problems

* * *

"Excuse me, coming through!"

Mace Windu – who had been wandering into a Temple Common Room and speaking to Yoda in low tones - is narrowly missed being tackled by a young Obi-Wan Kenobi. He catches the young man by the scruff of his tunic, yanking him to a halt. "Kenobi! Just _what _are you - "

"You little shit!" Qui-Gon shouts, coming into the common room. He skids to a halt upon seeing the masters, breathing hard and running a hand through his mane of hair. "Master Yoda, Windu. Other people."

Yoda inclines his head, hands folded over his cane. "Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan grins, twisting out of the grip and scrambling over a couch to put some distance between him and the masters. His padawan braid nearly whacks Mace in the face. "Master! Hi! What are you doing here?"

"Planning your death."

"Woah, woah." Mace steps between the master and apprentice, glancing between them. He notes a brown plant clutched in Qui-Gon's hand, and the snickers from some of the Jedi surrounding them. "What's going on?"

"You haven't heard, Mace?" Tahl mutters, trying to swallow her snickering and causing Master Tholme to chuckle quietly. "It's quite a tale."

"One I need not repeat," Qui-Gon growls, glaring at his apprentice.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan answers cheerfully.

"No you're not."

"Not even in the slightest."

"You couldn't have asked someone else to water it?"

"That demon plant bit me!"

"Because you always kicked it!"

"It's vines were in front of my bedchamber! I trip over it!"

"What in bloody hell is happening?" Mace exclaims. He didn't get his answer, as Obi-Wan takes off running again, Qui-Gon close on his heels.

He glances to Tahl, knowing she'll have the answer.

"Obi-Wan let one of Qui-Gon's plants die."

"Ah."

* * *

"I don't hate him - how many times do I have to insist that?"

Quinlan - lying on the couch and tossing a ball absently in the air - shrugs. "Gee, I don't know Bant - when you stop bitching about him?"

That gets a snort out of Siri and Garen, whom have disassembled her lightsaber in hopes to figuring out why it keeps glitching.

"Hey guys - not helping."

Galen takes the screw from between his lips and flashes an apologetic grin. "I know what you mean, Bant - unlike some people."

"Thank you!" Bant exclaims from where she's seated at the caf table, glaring at Quinlan over her textbooks. "Someone understands what I mean."

"He makes Master Tahl happy," Siri points out, wiping a bit of grease on her tunics.

"I'm not sure if listening to them bicker is happiness, Siri," Garen says calmly, raising an eyebrow. "It sounds more dysfunctional than anything - and he constantly belittles Obi-Wan."

Quinlan twists around to look at the blonde senior padawan. "I'm sorry, Siri, are we describing Qui-Gon's relationship with Obi-Wan or yours?"

Before she can respond - or attempt to run Quinlan through - the door to the study room whooshes open.

"Hey Obes I gotta," Quinlan frowns, catching sight of their friend's somber face. He glances uneasily at the rest of them, wincing at the emotions seeping through Obi-Wan's mental guards.

"Had another fight with Qui-Gon?" Bant asks quietly, staring at her textbooks a moment.

Obi-Wan sighs heavily, sitting beside Siri and taking the lightsaber parts from her hands gently. "I don't wish to discuss it, Bant."

"That -" Garen stops himself, and shakes his head. "Here, Obes - I think a screw got damaged. We might have to find a new one."

Quinlan sits upright, clearing his throat a bit. "I'm gonna run to the cafeteria - pizza day - should I bring back a pie?"

"Two," Obi-Wan mumbles, still examining the lightsaber parts.

Garen stands, his joints cracking. "I'll come with - Siri, I'll pick up the screw from the mechanics classroom on the way back."

"Thanks."

"Well…" Bant gathers her textbooks while her friends leave, talking quietly amongst themselves. "I need to head to class. Madame Che wanted me early today."

The room - so full of life before Obi-Wan came in - is suddenly quiet.

_And it's all Qui-Gon's fault._

_Again._

Siri leans her head against Obi-Wan's and closes her eyes. He stills, not relaxing until she covers his hands with her own.

"I don't blame him," Obi-Wan mutters. "He misses Xanatos."

She disagrees, but doesn't say anything to invoke an argument.


	3. Satine Kryze

Chapter Three: Satine Kryze

* * *

The Sundari Palace has been bombed. Flames are licking through the building, causing glass to shatter and the foundation to crumble. Insurgents were moving in, yelling and shooting at the screaming, evacuating people of Mandalore.

Obi-Wan ia running, bleary from sleep and sick with fear. He can't find the Duchess anywhere, and the comms aren't working.

Something is telling him to run to the throne room, despite the late hour. He can't sense the Duchess or Qui-Gon, but the Force is so muddled with fear and chaos he is hardly surprised that it is difficult to concentrate.

_Where's Master when I need him?_ Obi-Wan thinks, skidding to a halt when a bits of debris fell from the ceiling. He swears, igniting his lightsaber to cut the larger chunks and clearing a path towards the throne room.

"Padawan Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan turns, spotting the Prime Minister and Master Ginn running toward him. He is certainly not expecting his master to embrace him in relief, or Almec to mutter, "Foolish, stupid girl."

"Where's the Duchess?" Qui-Gon demands, pulling away from him. "You were supposed to be protecting her!"

"She ran towards the explosion when it happened!"

The Prime Minister stops their arguing before it can escalate, his face growing pale. "Her father was in the throne room."

"The first bomb was in the throne room," Qui-Gon murmurs. "There was a meeting with the Council."

"Prime Minister Almec." Qui-Gon glances at the shaken man. "Where can we meet you and the remaining cabinet once we have retrieved the Duchess?"

That seems to shake Alemc out of his daze. "Outside the city borders. I will send a transmission when all is said. Just get the Duchess out of the city."

Obi-Wan can easily say that he had better things to do than rescue a stubborn Duchess from a burning throne room, especially one that had insulted the Jedi and his way of life within minutes of meeting. He dodges into hallways when needed, panting beside his master while they avoid the Insurgents searching for remaining palace staff.

Qui-Gon grabs his sleeve, dragging him away from the main walkway to the throne room. "I've scouted out a short cut."

Years later, this would become the exact route Obi-Wan would take when he and the Duchess...well... But he didn't know that now, and curses every step towards the burning throne room.

Bodies litters the hallway outside the throne room, and the scent of charred flesh filled his nostrils. There is but only one Insurgent, whom is quickly killed by Qui-Gon.

The Duchess is visible through a wall of smoke and fire, cradling a body in her arms.

"Duchess!" Qui-Gon shouts. "Duchess, we need to leave!"

She doesn't respond.

Obi-Wan lets out a growl of frustration, and bolts into the fire. He ignores the shouts of his master, weaving over the burning debris to where the Duchess sits, holding the body of her dying father. "Duchess, we have to go.

"We can't just leave him! There's still a chance he can make it!"

He can feel the life Force of the man ebbing way. _Force forgive me._

The gunfire is getting closer.

"Padawan!" Qui-Gon shouts, igniting his lightsaber.

"Duchess Satine!" He kneels to her level, grasping her forearms. How could he have possibly known that this exact moment was when the habit of gripping her forearms during times of distress would form? "Satine, we need to leave. You are no use to your people dead."

Satine looks at him, her face streaked with tears and soot. A long moment passes before she nods.

Obi-Wan eases the body of her father off of her, wincing while he moans in pain. He helps the Duchess up. "Come on, my dear."

* * *

Satine has yet to let go of her hip, wrapped in his cloak laying down on the cave floor and biting her lip. She is pale from shock and blood loss. Blood covers her fingers, and as the minutes ticked by, she starts to look vaguely green.

"I'm injecting the antidote, Duchess." Obi-Wan waits for her to nod, and slowly pushes the needle into the purple, oozing bite on her left shin. He watches the liquid disappear, wincing while she lets out a whimper. "Force, I'm sorry."

The muscles in her leg begin to relax, and she lets out a harsh breath. "Thank you."

"The worst isn't over, I'm afraid. We ran out of bacta – I have to clean and stitch your wound up."

She glances down at the hip, blinking in what might have been surprise. "You know how to do that?"

"You're horribly confident in my abilities as a medic," Obi-Wan mutters, putting the syringe aside. He picks up the last of the cleaning wipes and rips open the package with his teeth.

"It's not a skill most people know."

"I'm not most people." Obi-Wan smirks at her snort. "How do you still manage to argue with me when you're close to shock?"

"Keeping a person engaged is the best way to prevent them from going into shock."

Obi-Wan hums in agreement, and reaches out a hand to grasp her wrist. "I have move your hand, okay?"

She lets out a hoarse laugh when he tugs the blood-soaked fabric away from her skin. "If you wanted to undress me you could have just – oh, haar-chak!"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, having just started dabbing at the skin. He detests the pain on her face, but admires the way she refuses to whimper after her initial reaction.

"It'll be over soon." She doesn't really care that she is partially exposed - she is Mandalorian, after all. It would be strange to feel ashamed of her body. Besides - it's not like she plans on sleeping with him.

"I still need to stitch it up."

"Weren't you bit by the venom-mites too?"

"Don't worry about me, my dear."

"Mmm - where's," Satine clenches her teeth while he peels off the rest of the fabric sticking to her bloodied wound. "Where's Master Qui-Gon?"

"Picking up our last camp, I presume."

Obi-Wan finishes cleaning the wound the best he can, and drops the soiled towelette back into the package. He gets into a more comfortable position, finding the needle package and opening it.

Satine presses her lips together when the needle pierces her skin, trying not to cry at the sheer agony of it. "How...did you learn...to sew wounds the old way?"

"My best friend, Bant - she taught me. Thought it might be useful skill to learn." Obi-Wan grins at her in the dimness. "Evidently it was worth my time."

"Mmm. Trust a woman's instincts."

He ties off a stitch and cuts it before beginning another. "You know - you're quite beautiful when you're not yelling at me."

Satine half-hopes her burning skin is a fever setting in and not a blush. "You're quite the flirt, Padawan Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan, Your Highness."

"Satine, Padawan Kenobi."

He looks at her, eyebrows quirked upwards. "Pleasure to meet you, Satine - come to Datoonine often?"

She laughs, the sound pleasant and a little raw while it echoes around the cave.

* * *

"How do you feel about armor, if you are so against fighting?"

Satine shrugs, picking at her palms and staring into the fire. "I abhor that someone has a need for it. To be fighting in those conditions...where you _need _to wear it...no one should ever have to do such a thing."

Obi-Wan - lying on his left side and pillowed by his cloak, as he had taken a blaster shot to the right thigh from bounty hunters - repositions himself and winces. "But you're not against it?"

"I would have rather you had it this afternoon. Besides," she looks up and grins. "I wouldn't have the scar from when you dropped me."

"Oh for the love of - I _tripped."_

"Over your own feet. Well done! Bravo!"

"Hey - come here." He reaches out a hand, sighing when Satine scans the rocks around them. "Master Qui-Gon is still scouting for remaining bounty hunters. We'll be fine for tonight."

She shakes her head, eventually caving and stretching out beside him. "How does it feel?" she murmurs, fingers ghosting over the bandages.

"Worse now that the pain-meds are beginning to wear off." Obi-Wan gathers her hand and presses her knuckles to his lips. "Better now that you're here."

"You are _such _a flirt, Ben."

"Ben?"

"It's...Old Mando'a for Obi-Wan. Do you mind-"

"Of course not...Tina."

* * *

"Do Jedi marry?"

Qui-Gon glances up from stoking the fire, a bit puzzled by the question. "Do Jedi marry?"

The young Duchess shrugs, wrapping her cloak a bit tighter around herself. "Your padawan keeps teasing you about a woman named Tahl - but you never seem to mention 'wife' - why is that? The ancient Jedi married, did they not?"

"Some did, yes." Qui-Gon isn't terribly surprised she knew the history of the ancient Jedi. _Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, _the old adage said. He ponders for a moment, vaguely aware of his padawan in the distance, trooping back to camp with firewood.

"History has proven that partners and children...can be both a source of strength and a liability. While a Jedi can be more centered for it...less savory types - enemies - can easily take advantage of that love, killing or wounding those close to someone who is Force sensitive...and grief...the desire for revenge...can be powerful, abusive drugs."

Satine furrows her brow. "But the possibility of someone falling from grace…"

"Are slim - but the results could be catastrophic."

"Then why choose to have a partner with that possibility looming over your heads?"

Qui-Gon can't refrain a laugh. "The same reason sentients seek friendships - a connection. Understanding. Someone who will love you despite your faults."

"He has many of them," Obi-Wan mutters when he came into the cave and dumps the firewood on the floor. He smiles at the eye-rolls he is given, shrugging off his cloak and walking to the fireside. "What are we talking about?"

"Marriage in the Order - or lack of it,"

Qui-Gon supplies, curiously watching the two young ones glance at each other.

"Master Ki-Adi is married."

"With the permission of the Council. He is Cerean," he told Satine, who nods in (relative) understanding. The low birth-rate of Cerean males were known Galaxy wide, and it would have surprised him if she had not known this fact.

"A legal, binding contract is not liked...but for two people - or whatever the relationship - to have a relationship...is tolerated?"

"Tolerated may not be the best word...but no one will stop two consenting adults from sharing a bed." Qui-Gon shrugs, a bit of a smile on his lips while he thinks of Tahl. "I'm not exactly a model Jedi - a bit of a maverick, my padawan might say."

"_Master."_

"What? I'm just repeating your words, my dear padawan."

"Excuse me, mi lady. Might I talk to my padawan a moment?"

Satine nodded, a small frown appearing between her eyebrows. "Of course, Master Jedi."

"What is it, Master?" Obi-Wan asked when they had walked out of earshot of the Duchess. He angled himself so he was still visible to the camp, hands folded inside his robe. Already he missed the warmth of the fire. "Do you sense something?"

Qui-Gon had his face lifted to the wind, his back to the camp. A smile touched his lips at the padawan's words, and he put a large hand on his shoulder. "I do, my young padawan."

"Insurgents? I haven't felt anyone's presence but you and Satine for-"

"Obi-Wan." The Jedi Master looked at him, a small, knowing smile on his lips. "Despite what you may believe, I am not blind to how you feel about the Duchess. I am most certainly not blind to how she feels about you."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to defend himself, and closed it promptly upon looking at the camp. The cicada in the woods filled the silence while he studied the Duchess, who was nibbling one of their last ration bars and poking at the fire. His heart was heavy while he guessed where the conversation was leading.

"When this mission is over, Obi-Wan, and the Duchess has been returned to her throne...I will not judge you if you choose to stay on Mandalore."

"I know my duty as a Jedi."

"Do you?" Qui-Gon squeeze his shoulder before letting it drop. "You are both young, my padawan. A choice like this cannot be made lightly."

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together before speaking. "I ask you to put your trust in me, Master."

Qui-Gon set his weathered gaze on him, and shook his head. "Very well." He glanced to the camp, where the Duchess had begun to sneak looks at them. Voice raised enough or her to bear, he said, "I will leave and seek out a town. Force willing I can exchange some work for provisions.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Four days at the most. Five, should the weather turn."

"If the Insurgents find us?"

"Head East. I spotted a waterfall about two clicks from here. There should be a cave to hide in."

Obi-Wan bowed his head, sensing the conversation was over.

Qui-Gon clapped him on the shoulder,leaning in to whisper, "I trust you to keep an eye on the Duchess?"

"Of course, Master."

He watched Qui-Gon smile, and get swallowed into the forest. It took a long time for his footsteps to fade into nothingness. Then it was the two of them, alone for the first time in two weeks.

Satine seemed to sense something was wrong when he came back to the fire. She glanced back to where the Jedi Master had gone, and to Obi-Wan sat. "Why are you all broody?"

"I'm not brooding."

"Master Qui-Gon said something to make you sit in front of a fire and frown at it."

"It's nothing, Satine."

She snorted, taking another bite of the ration bar. "Don't lie to me, Ben. I can tolerate many things but lying is not one of them."

Obi-Wan peered at her, ignoring how his stomach clenched in hunger. What type of hunger, however, he wasn't sure of. "You? Tolerate? That's the best lie I've heard in a long time."

"Excuse me?"

"You're cannot tolerate any sort of violence, even if it's to protect your own self! You refuse to carry a weapon to defend yourself!" Obi-Wan had been expecting her to start yelling, or at the very least to snap back. He wasn't expecting her to glance down at the raition bar in hand, and swallow thickly.

"He who wields a sword does not wish for peace," Satine murmured. She leaned over, pressing the ration bar into his hand. The touch was electric, but over all to soon while she stood, drawing her cloak around her. "I will retire for tonight, Obi-Wan. Good night."

"Satine…" Obi-Wan caught her wrist while she moved last him, pressing his lips to the inside of it before looking at her. Every last thought in his head knew it was a bad idea to ask anything of her, but he so desperately wanted to be with her, even if she was mad at him. He didn't know how much longer he had with her. "Mind if I join you?"

"It's not going to interfere with your duty?"

He smiled softly, shoving the ration bar in some pocket of his tunic while standing. "Of course not, my dear."


	4. This Could Have Been Prevented

Chapter Four: This Could Have Been Prevented

* * *

Satine knows having a child is supposed to be a joyous occasion. She knows that because faintly, she can remember her parents excitedly announcing Bo-Katan.

But while she lies awake, listening to the insects of Draboon, she wonders how in the universe she is supposed to be joyful.

Her people are dying, war is waging, she is on the run, living hand-to-mouth…

Currently knocked up by her Jedi protector.

A Jedi, whom the Mandalorians hate more than pacifism.

Who is currently sleeping behind her, arms curled about her, their fingers laced together.

Master Qui-Gon was keeping watch outside the tent, probably playing cards to keep himself occupied. He rarely slept at night.

"Missing Tahl," Obi-Wan had explained early on in their travels before narrowly dodging a swat and grinning. "What Master? You said it yourself - you can't sleep without her."

Satine heaves a sigh, closing her eyes and trying to relax. There's unease building in her stomach - or was that nausea? She was never sure anymore.

She doesn't seem to know anything anymore - or how to tell him.

Obi-Wan shifts, tugging her closer. She rolled over, burying her nose in his tunic and trying not to cry.

"Mmm...something wrong?"

"Bad dream."

* * *

He doesn't apologize the first time he kisses her. There isn't a need for words anymore between them, though their newfound love (and fear for each other's safety) fuels their arguments and drives Qui-Gon crazy.

He refuses to apologize for falling in love.

When the civil war ended and she is restored to her throne, it makes their last night difficult. He nearly stays by her side.

He argues and fights with her that night, his legendary control breaking while she screams at him and he shouts back.

"I'm staying!"

"You are not!"

"He's my son too!"

"Mandalore won't accept a Jedi consort!"

"Marriage?! I want to be a part - "

Satine gets in his face, her words a hiss. "I am the Duchess of Mandalore. I know what is right for my people – a Jedi for a husband and the father of my child is not one of them!"

There is a snarl on his face – he doesn't do anything to fight it. "You are not aborting our son, Satine!"

"You think that low of me? I will have this child, just like you will become a Jedi knight. That is final."

He scoffs, staring into her eyes. "You can't conceal a pregnancy or a child."

"Politicians have been doing the former for years, Obi. It's nothing new." She pushes past him, shoving his shoulder for good measure while striding into the bedchamber.

He follows her, of course. "What if word gets out you're pregnant? Doctors will surely-"

"I'll destroy the droids that keep me and the babe healthy. People will take the truth and believe it to be rumors created by my opponents." Satine starts to undress, and curses when she can't undo the bodice.

Obi-Wan steps behind her, taking the thin ribbon and loosening it slowly. "Will you raise-"

"I will say he is a relative of mine. Mandalore is in ruins, no one will notice a child's presence."

"He will be Force sensitive."

"Plenty of people are on Mandalore. They rarely leave to the Jedi-"

"They leave to the Sith." Obi-Wan sighs when she doesn't answer, reaching the end of the bodice. "This is a foolhardy plan."

"A good thing you won't be a part of it, Obi."

_"What?"_

* * *

"You should make that."

"Mmm." Tahl watches the chef on the screen - whom is preparing some dumpling creation - and shrugs. "Or I could buy it at a restaurant."

Qui-Gon smirks a little, glancing to his padawan reading in the armchair while the apartment door whooshes open. "We should have Obi-Wan make it."

"We should have Obi-Wan make what?"

"Bant," Tahl greets while she tosses her padawan the remote - the Limmie match between Corellia and Jakku was on afterall. "How was class?"

"I will never work in the creche willingly," Bant mutters while she sits on the floor and tries to find the channel. Limmie was not well-liked on Coruscant, but that doesn't stop the two of them from enjoying the sport. "Obi-Wan can you get your nose out of the holo-book? We're watching Limmie!"

Obi-Wan does not look up, but he does give his friend the galactic, obscene gesture every creature with five fingers gives.

"Obi-Wan!" Tahl admonishes, watching his smirk grow. She glances at her life-partner - whose couch she is laying on, her feet in his lap - and scowls. "I blame you."

"Me? Whatever did I do darling?" Qui-Gon grins when she nudges a foot into his stomach. "I have done nothing wrong in my life ever."

"Bantha shit," Obi-Wan mutters, not flinching when Qui-Gon throws a pillow at his head.

"I'll make you teach younglings with Master Yoda for that comment, my young padawan."

Obi-Wan gives a thumbs up, still reading.

"What can possibly be more entertaining than Limmie?" Bant exclaims in exasperation. She glances at the holo and groans. "Oh great - breaking news - hey Obi, isn't that the Mandalorian Duchess?"

Obi-Wan takes his time looking up, focusing in on the young blonde woman.

Tahl glances at Qui-Gon, whose expression is somber. She had been told of the relationship between the young lovers, and how quiet Obi-Wan had been on the flight back to Coruscant. Half of her had hoped that a half a year had changed the young man's feelings, but judging by the way he stares at the Duchess, nothing had changed much.

The Duchess, who is holding a squirming infant and talking to her prime minister while they walked through the city.

_"...today. Now this is the first outing Duchess Kryze has made with the young prince - no pictures or video footage have been released since the palace announced he had been found by members of the Kryze clan. He is allegedly the son of her second-cousin Klaudius and..."_

Obi-Wan stands, turning his face away while he walks to his bedchamber.

Qui-Gon closes his eyes and grimaces, head leaning against the back of the couch.

"Boring," Bant mutters, clicking to a different channel. "Oh here we go! Limmie!"

Tahl rises from her position carefully, stepping over her distracted padawan and walking to the bedchamber down the hall. She stands outside the door, grimacing at the emotions she felt swirling from the young man. "Obi?" She knocks gently. "Do you want to talk?"

There is silence from the chamber. She has half-a-mind to use her master codes and override the door - she doesn't trust Obi-Wan alone in this state, especially now that he is of legal drinking age on most planets.

And of age to do other things too.

Just when she is about to punch in the override, the door slides open. She steps into the dark room, not entirely surprised to find it immaculate and free of mess. A hand touches her ankle, and she jumps, hand on lightsaber while she turns around.

Obi-Wan is sitting by the door, and he smiles a bit in apology before leaning his head against the wall and sighing. The past few minutes stretch into hours while he stares at the ceiling, limp and exhausted.

There was no sense sugar-coating her words. "The Mandalorian prince...he's yours?"

Obi-Wan's hands curls into a fist, teeth biting his lower lip. He nods slowly.

"Oh Obi…"

"Tina gave birth _alone_...she didn't want me there." Obi-Wan glances at her, tears at the edges of his eyes, looking like a scared little boy. "The first time I see my son is on the 'net...I don't even know his _name."_

Tahl watches in amazement while Obi-Wan Kenobi buries his head in his hands and releases a shuddering breath. She can't quite believe what she is hearing. Few female Jedi would not dream of putting themselves through birth - they took care of it when a situation occurred and that was the end of that.

But plenty of her fellow male Jedi must have offspring running around the galaxy - how else would the Jedi stay alive and well?

But while she knelt to Obi-Wan's level, she wonders how many of them cared - much less knew - of those children?

"I didn't stay, Master Tahl. Why didn't I stay?"

Tahl wraps her arms around him, not surprised to feel silent tears dripping onto her tunic.

"You still have a choice, Obi-Wan. You can still leave. No one will judge you."

He says nothing.


	5. Love and Loss

Chapter Five: Love and Loss

* * *

It has been days since Master Tahl's death. The Temple is quiet, reeling from her death. She had been well-loved by everyone. The halls feel empty without her laugh, Obi-Wan muses while he walks from the dojo to the Jinn/Kenobi apartment.

Empty and devoid of warmth. He cannot begin to imagine what the pain his master is experience...well, he can actually.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan jogs up a few flights of stairs and tries to pass Master Tholme with just a nod.

"Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turns, raising his eyebrows at the elder master. "Hmm?"

"Make sure the liquor is locked up - anything sharp...I...I don't trust Qui-Gon."

"You and me both, Master." Obi-Wan gives a small smile, and finishes his walk to the apartment. It's quiet and dark when he walks in, eerily so. He ignores the lump that is his master on the couch, heading to the kitchen and pulling the crate of beer from the crisper.

"Obi-Wan…"

Obi-Wan turns, meeting his master's sad gaze in the dim living room.

"I pray you never have to endure the pain of losing your loved ones."

"Master...we are Jedi. It is our bane in life to lose those we care about to death."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"You are wise beyond your years," Qui-Gon mutters, already lying back down, lost in his own world.

Obi-Wan glances at the crate - there's only two bottles left...he knows there's a bottle of wine in the cabinet…

_Lost in my own world indeed, _Obi-Wan thinks, taking one of the bottles.

* * *

Obi-Wan comes unannounced during one of his rare leaves as a senior padawan, angry and hurting, and aching to meet his son. He wants to barge into Sundari palace and demand his every request be fulfilled - but he doesn't, because no, he's a perfect Jedi who must not slip, less the New Mandalorians fragile trust in him break.

He enters the atmosphere, waits for Aerial Command to grant him access, states his reason (reviewing the statement the Order and the Duchess are releasing to the public about the year-long mission), and is escorted into the palace without a word.

He is led into the private chambers that he spent precious little time in, finding himself numb when the guard announces him and leaves.

Because Satine is seated on the couch, pulling her tunic closed, holding a small bundle of blankets that contains _their son._

"Obi-Wan," she greets, not quite sure where to look.

"What?..." He manages, still rooted to the spot.

"Klaudius Benjamin Kryze-Kenobi. Korkie Kryze, publicly."

He cracks a small smile. "Of course. Satine, why - "

"Do you want to hold him?" Satine asks. She feels a bit awkward asking such a thing – this is the father of her child, the man she loved and ultimately let go (yeah right).

Obi-Wan nods eagerly, stepping forward to take their son. She doesn't want to relinquish Korkie – but does nevertheless, ignoring how strange it feels to have her arms empty.

A small smile crosses her face when she withdrew her hands, letting Obi-Wan cradle their squirming son.

"Hi," Obi-Wan whispers, comfortably handling the fussing. He is smiling, beginning to pace around the sitting room and murmur words to low for her to hear.

Satine swallows hard, picking at her palms when Korkie stops fussing and stares up at his father in awe.

"You have your mother's eyes." Obi-Wan chuckles when Korkie's tiny fist reaches out and tugs on his padawan braid. "That's not yours, little one."

"His midi-chlorian count matches yours. I had to threaten the medics keep them from sending the results to the Jedi Temple."

Obi-Wan sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I felt his presence the moment I arrived on Kalevela. It feels like you and I when - "

"There's a child present, Ben."

He gives a huff of laughter, watching Korkie gum his padawan braid. "I can only presume he felt mine too – he probably knows who I am. Who we are. Probably from the moment he was conceived."

"Does that mean he's Force sensitive?"

Obi-Wan strokes a finger over Korkie's small hand, tears coming to his eyes when their son grabbed it. "Satine…let me be a part of his life. Somehow. I - "

"Obi-Wan - "

"_Please, _Satine. Do not do this to me. He's my - _he's our son_. I know it's not ideal but - "

"I will not be responsible for you leaving the Order - "

"You will not accept me as a spouse, Satine – because Mandalore will not accept a Jedi. I have made my peace with that." Obi-Wan held their little son closer. "_Please. _Let me…be an uncle. A friend. _Someone _in his life. I cannot - "

Satine held up a hand to keep him from babbling. "I will think about it."

"That's the Kryze equivalent of yes."

"How will it be fair to Korkie? You will always be gone."

"I don't have to be."

"Obi-Wan..."

* * *

"The Force is all around us, my young padawan...it controls the past, the present, the future."

"Does that mean we have no say in our future? No choice?"

"Didn't you make a choice on Mandalore?"

Qui-Gon lays a large hand on his padawan's shoulder, looking into the many pools in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. "Our choices...are right for the time...and time is a funny thing."

"Indeed."

"Well...shall we head to Naboo?"

"I'm _not_ flying."

"Why would I except you too?"

* * *

When her son starts fussing and won't stop for hours, Satine thinks the worst. She wants to cancel all her meetings and appointments but...

Because Naboo is being invaded, and everyone in Sundari palace is staring at the screens, hoping for some piece of information.

She holds Korkie close, aware of the few nasty looks shot her way at his fussing. The battle wages for hours, the cameras zooming about the battle field, the feed crackling while the Nubian news channels tries to understand what is happening on the field and in the capital.

"There's a Jedi team on planet," Almec murmurs suddenly.

Satine glances up sharply, watching the two blurry lightsabers the cameras had picked up.

_There._

She can just make out long hair and a green lightsaber, and a blue lightsaber, but nothing is distinct. But she _knows _those forms, knows how those two wield their lightsabers.

Korkie clings to her chest, quiet now but obviously upset. His little fists are fisted so tightly in her tunic they are nearly white.

"These are recordings" Satine mutters suddenly, feeling an odd sense of foreboding come over her.

"Security footage, ma'am," a cleaning lady murmurs.

She nods, staring at the screens. When the Nubians win, everybody cheers and hugs each other. Naboo is one of Mandalore's longest and closet allies, and to lose them to the Trade Federation…

Satine doesn't even want to think about them. The casualties and deaths are beginning to come through, and people are quieting, darting to their own chambers call friends and relatives.

She holds her breath, hoping, praying that her son still has a father.

Almec takes a transmission from a Nubian palace aid, relief in his exhausted voice. "Yes, we'll send aid - yes, of course - tell, Queen Amidala she should except it within a few days - no, no problem - yes - Duchess?"

Satine smooths a hand over her son's head while she glances at her Prime Minister. She is one of the few people left in the chamber. "Hmm?"

"Please head to bed. You look exhausted."

She nods numbly, standing and waving away the nurse' offer of help. The halls are empty while she walks, holding Korkie close, thankful his eyes were beginning to droop.

"You're gonna fuss all of tomorrow, aren't you?"

Korkie's fists relax on her tunics, and she smiles, climbing the stairs that lead to her chambers with ease. A year ago, she hadn't even known how to carry a child.

_How circumstance changes everything._

A guard smiles at them while she palms open the door of her chambers. "Your comlink's been chiming for the past hour, m'lady. You must have the volume on high - I could hear it from out here."

"Oh? How odd. Thank you for informing me."

The door slides shut, and she lets out a sigh of relief - for about two minutes. Korkie wakes up and refuses to calm down, fussing and inconsolable. Dressed in only her shift, she holds him and paces, trying desperately to get him to sleep.

_That _was not something she had been prepared for when she gave birth. The _Force sensitive _part, where he could sense her emotions and become upset far too easily. Obi-Wan was always able to calm him, but he couldn't be in Sundari _all _the time.

_He could be, _a little voice whispers in her head just when her comlink shrills a familiar tone.

"Please stop crying," Satine begs, managing to hold him on her hip while answering the comlink. "Ben!"

_"Satine I - "_ Obi-Wan stops, bags under his eyes and a frown deepening on his face. His posture is slumped, and he sits on what looks an overly plush bed. _"What's wrong with Korkie?"_

"He won't sleep - he's barely - " Satine halts at the sudden quiet, watching Korkie sniff and turn his face toward the holo. She presses her lips together, watching their young son reach forward. His small hands pass through the holo while he tries to hug his father, utterly confused as to why he can't reach him.

Obi-Wan looks on, trying to smile and ignoring the tears coming down his face. _"Keeping your mother awake, Korkie? She has a system to rule, you know."_

"Dada," Korkie mutters, his little brow furrowing. "Da."

_"Has he...is that his first word?"_ Obi-Wan begins before she nods her head. He lets out a small laugh. _"I miss you too."_

Korkie's face crumbles when his little fists try to pass through the holo again, and it takes all of her willpower to keep herself from begging Obi-Wan just to come _home._

"Obi-Wan, what happened on Naboo? I saw your lightsaber and - "

"_Qui-Gon's dead, Satine."_

She blinks, holding Korkie a bit tighter while she sits on the glider. He squawks, positioning himself until he can comfortably watch his father. "How?"

Obi-Wan takes a shaky breath before beginning the tale. She knows he skips over a few parts - what happened on the ship on Tatooine, the fight that ended Qui-Gon's life, how he felt about Anakin…

Anakin. A slave-boy that's now a padawan. _From one oppressive life to another. Poor boy._

But she keeps her thoughts to herself, and Obi-Wan doesn't comment. Korkie keeps nodding off, only to jerk awake and refocus on his father, trying to reach out and touch the holo every now and then.

_"I don't know how often I'll be able to be on Mandalore now, my dear,"_ Obi-Wan says when the Kalevala sun is beginning to rise and Korkie is fast asleep._ "With Anakin - "_

"You have a toddler son in Sundari and a padawan on Coruscant," Satine murmurs, her voice sharp. "You have to decide where your commitments lie, Obi-Wan. I will not force your decision anymore than I will support one - do I make myself clear?"

Obi-Wan bows his head a moment. "Of course, Satine."

* * *

The Temple feels strange now, without Qui-Gon, their apartment more so. It's empty, void, filled with plants and haphazard research projects. Obi-Wan wants to let the plants die - they remind him too much of his master.

But Anakin...Anakin loves them. It had been night when they arrived at the apartment, and he hadn't seen them in the darkness. But now, in the threshold of the living room, he stares in awe at the plants, quietly entranced by the petals and the vines snaking around furniture and windows. "These are all ours?"

"Well…" Obi-Wan stays still against the countertop, one hand grasping a mug of caf, watching his new padawan. "Master Qui-Gon's."

"Oh…"

"Do you want breakfast here or in the cafeteria? The lower one has...why the face?"

"We can eat anytime? _All that we want?"_

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows at the stunned expression, not quite understanding. "Of course we can-" He stops, swallows, remembering that Anakin had been a _slave._

Forcing a smile, Obi-Wan manages, "Oatmeal and some toast? We have a long day ahead of us."


	6. Son of Kenobi

Chapter Seven: Son of Kenobi

* * *

"I must thank you again, Padmé."

Queen Amidala smiles while they walk to the private dining hall. "Of course, Satine. Glad my presence could help you negotiate with the Trading Federation."

"They know nothing but strong-man politics," Satine grumbles, shaking her head and feeling her overly heavy earrings hit her neck. "It's despicable."

"But you received the loans! With very little interest. What - "

"He's here! He's here!" A little voice shouts to the right of them.

Padmé turns, blinking at the little blonde boy in night-clothes running down the hall towards them. He is ignoring the nursemaid chasing after him, and skids to a halt in front them.

"Korkie," Satine murmurs calmly, kneeling down - in heels - in front of the toddler. She holds up a hand at the nursemaid, a quiet command that she will take care of the matter. "Did you forget your manners? Or that it's nearly midnight"

Innocent blue eyes turn to Padmé, far too intelligent for such a young age - and far too familiar. She can't remember _where _she had seen such eyes - but before she can dwell on it, the little prince stretches out his hand and smiles.

"My name is Prince Kladius. You made friends with the Gungans."

Padmé laughs, bending to shake the young prince's hand. "I did. I'm glad someone so young is taking an interest in politics. Your aunt must be raising you well."

Korkie beams, and promptly forgets about her when he turns back to the Duchess. "_Now _can I go see him?"

"I'll join you - that is, if you don't mind cutting our visit short, Padmé."

"Nonsense. I'm sure your nurse can show me to my chambers. I _am _rather tired."

Satine smiles gratefully, and sweeps the young prince up. "Gods, you're getting heavy. Goodnight Padmé."

"Goodnight to both of you."

"This way, my lady."

Padmé nods, following the nursemaid without a word. She does not really look around at the artwork on the walls - yes, the stain glass is lovely - but she feels in her bones that something is not right. The nursemaid bids her farewell at the entrance to her doors. She steps in, letting the door shut quietly.

"You might want to change into softer shoes if you're heading back out to investigate, Mé-Mé."

She jumps, turning around and spotting Sabé leaning against one of the armchairs, soft-soled boots dangling from her fingers. "I don't know what - "

"Oh please. Take the boots! I'll cover for you."

"Bless you," Padmé murmurs, ridding herself of her headdress and taking the boots. She strips the skirts on her body - Nubian royal clothing was usually designed to be modified in case a quick get-away was needed - and was left with leggings, a tunic, and a vest. "Better?" she asked, yanking the boots on.

"Much."

She grins, and moments later, she is running down the hall, towards the Duchess' private hangar - that's where the _guest _must have docked. There are some guards about, but she ducks them easily, weaving around pillars and statues and _Satine, must you have this many plants? _before finding the hangar.

It's dark in there, lit only by a few overhead lights. Like all hangars, there are boxes everywhere, and she hides behind them, watching Satine and Korkie walk towards a red shuttle. They wait a reasonable distance away - there's still exhaust fumes coming from the shuttle, and the engine is still dying.

The seconds stretch into hours until the ramp hisses, and a cloaked figure walks - well jogs, really - down the lowering ramp.

"Papa!"

The figure flips down his hood and grins, dropping to his knees and opening his arms. Red hair pokes out in various places, and stubble grazes his jaw - but he looks so _happy _it hurts to look at.

Padmé furrows her brow. _I thought Korkie's parents died during the Mandalorian Civil War._

Korkie runs into the arms of the young man, laughing through a sob, clinging to his father.

The redhead presses a kiss to Korkie's head, holding the toddler close "There's no need to cry, son. I'm alive, aren't I?"

"You make the most dramatic of entrances, Ben," Satine says, shaking her head and smiling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Tina dear."

Padmé steps away, realizing she should not be witnessing this scene.

Had she stayed any longer, she would have seen Korkie exclaim over the kyber crystal his father gifted him, and hear him say, "Your mother agreed to this, Korkie."

"Really Mom?"

"...yeah."

* * *

Being deemed the nephew of Duchess Kryze is not a political façade - not really.

It is a polite lie, one to spare Korkie the embarrassment of being born a bastard.

Of the Duchess of Mandalore.

High society accepted it - they always accept lies like that, feigning smiles and whispering behind their hands the absolute disgrace of it.

Mandalorians thought intercourse outside of marriage immoral.

To admit their dear Duchess had done such a thing...well...she isn't exactly a typical Mandalorian.

She's a New Mandalorian, to be exact.

The customs of her people aren't exactly present in her mind - especially when that bearded young man is around.

There are whispers that he is the father.

Satine doesn't mind the whispers - they amused her, more than anything.

_But now is not the time for amusement,_ she thinks, shifting against the doorframe and not announcing her presence.

Her little son is quiet, sitting cross-legged on the living-room carpet, trying to float the kyber-crystal in front of him. Obi-Wan is beside him, quietly coaxing him, looking a little stressed.

Purple. Amethyst. Whatever the color the stone was - it makes her uneasy.

The color represents darkness...or someone who walks the line between light and dark.

It is hard to imagine Korkie - a serious, sweet blond boy - having darkness inside him.

"Korkie - look."

Korkie cracks open his eyes carefully, grinning while he sees his kyber-crystal shiver in the air.

Obi-Wan smiles, glancing to the doorway. His eyes soften, and he opens his mouth to speak.

Satine shakes her head, wishing to remain anonymous. This isn't her moment - this is between father and son.

"Dad, can I try again?"

She turns around, quietly leaving the chamber.

"You never need to ask, Korkie."

* * *

"I never said I was upset!"

"You're sure acting like it!"

"I'm not - Ben, don't give me that look."

Obi-Wan scoffs, leaning against the wall. They had had retreated to her bedroom once Korkie had fallen asleep - late, because he kept chattering to his father about Jedi training and how happy he was to have him home and…

He sighs, glancing around the bedroom. Precious little time had been spent in this room - last time he was in it, he recalled, they had been arguing about his parental rights. It was a nice room, with soft blues and tans and plush fabrics.

It was the room of a mother, not a queen. A room to argue without getting interrupted by their little son.

Satine finishes taking her earrings out, not looking at him in her vanity mirror. She braids her hair carefully, lips pressed tightly for a moment. "Obi-Wan...he's a child. I don't want you teaching him to he a little soldier."

Obi-Wan shakes his head, well aware of his dampened Force connection to his son only a few rooms away. Once in awhile, he could feel a pulse - but for once he didn't reach out. He didn't need to subject his son with residual feelings from this argument.

Carefully, he strides to the vanity and knelt by her side.

"Satine." Obi-Wan puts a hand on her bare knee, then grimaced when she made to stand. Her nightgown swayed around her knees. "Satine, he at least needs to know how to control his Force -"

"He cannot learn that without having a lightsaber?!"

"...he could, yes." Obi-Wan stands, catching her elbow when she went to shove past him. She glares at him, frustrated and angry and scared.

"What good am I as a father if I cannot teach my son what I know?" He moved his fingers down her arm, feeling her smooth skin. Gently, he laces their fingers together. "Just allow me this - please. You spend every day with him...I just want _something _to -"

Satine steps forward, pressing their lips together in a harsh kiss. She doesn't know what came over her when the kiss breaks - but she doesn't have to ask, because he responds with equal enthusiasm.

* * *

The transmission comes while they were in hyperspace, hurtling towards Florrum. He does not answer the first tone, smiling sheepishly when Mace Windu - via holo - frowns at him.

When the second tone comes roughly ten minutes later, he realizes it's an emergency.

Despite the looks, he steps out of the conference chamber and takes the transmission, worrying Korkie is ill and discovering it's much worse.

Quinlan finds him outside the conference chamber, pale and holding the wall for support.

Obi-Wan doesn't give an explanation to his sudden desire to leave the mission, and nobody - not even his young, nearly 12 year old padawan - asks for one.

He feels clammy and ill when he submits a removal from the mission (he's never done such a thing) and takes the available shuttle to Sundari, Kalevala. (He does switch the tracking beacon off too - another thing he has never done).

His little son is ecstatic to see him, bouncing around and grinning from ear to ear. Obi-Wan keeps him entertained for a while, waiting until bedtime to slip out and head to the hospital.

The nurses (sentient, thank the Force) are kind enough, if a leery that a Jedi Knight is asking for the Duchess of Mandalore. But they have good bedside manner (and instructions by the Duchess herself) and lead him to the desired room.

The room smells of antiseptic and death. (Bant always says that smell is of routine and healing - he always says she's making stuff up.) The hospital bed is in the middle of the room, monitors beside it, and Satine lying in the middle the mess. There are cords and wires connected to various parts of her body, snaking out ominously from underneath the standard white blankets.

Obi-Wan kneels by the bedside, smiling gently while she cracks her eyes open. He can feel warmth coming from the heating-cloth wrapped around her middle.

"Hi."

He takes the clammy hand that is closest to him, lacing their fingers together and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Hey."

Satine sighs, squeezing his fingers gently. "You didn't need to pull out of that mission. You didn't have to. I understand you have - "

"Satine. I can have a life outside of the Order - they understand we may have different responsibilities. Besides," he reaches out with his opposite hand, smoothing hair away from her warm brow. "I'm needed here."

Satine doesn't comment about the Order - or why he is even here. She doesn't even remember asking for him - well, maybe she did. The past couple two days are a blur of pain and questions and tears. He is here now, looking as exhausted as she feels, trying to keep the pretense that this isn't hurting either of them. "Did you stop by the palace?"

"Korkie's fine - a bit confused, but fine. He wants to visit you."

"Oh," she glances away, biting her lip. "Tomorrow maybe? I…okay. Tomorrow's fine."

"How are you feeling?"

"Can I be honest?" Satine blinks tears out of her eyes, her voice a whimper. "I have no idea."

"The transmission was a bit of a shock, my dear."

"I wanted to tell you, Obi. I just...I didn't know how and then…" She gestures wordlessly to her stomach and sighs. "I was planning on telling you."

"I believe you." Obi-Wan leans over, pressing a kiss to her temple, not bothering to hide the crack in his voice. "I believe you."

"It...would have been nice to give Korkie a sibling."

* * *

"I can't do this anymore," Satine whispers, leaning against the balcony, her thin nightgown moving in the wind. She doesn't expect a response, and only smiles sadly when his arm moves around her, gently tugging her into his side.

He says nothing, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, eyes closed and breath uneven.

She tucks her head into his chest, sighing heavily, feeling the dull ache still in her.

"I never intended for any of this to happen, my dear," he whispers.

"I know…I know."

"Would..." Satine swallows, not knowing what to say. "Would you have stayed this time? Without me asking?"

He sighs, not knowing what to say. _Would _he have stayed? Maybe...he only stayed away when Korkie was born because that's what Satine had wanted. But learning about the second child...then _losing _the child within a few minutes for him...he feels like it may be a wound they cannot heal from. Not immediately. Not right now. They hadn't even been in bed together since Korkie had been born – except one fucking mistake, when emotions were high and time was short. What was the word people used to describe what they had done?

Oh...right.

Hate sex.

"We'll have to tell him why we're not together," Satine says in his silence. "Why...he can't call us mom and dad in public."

* * *

Korkie's little brow furrows, his chin beginning to quiver. "Whaddya mean I can't call you mom and dad? Your my mom and and dad!"

Obi-Wan sighs, glancing over his son to Satine and back again. "You can still call us mom and dad...just not in public. It...would be very dangerous for all of us...but especially you son."

"But you can protect us Dad! You're a Jedi - no one can hurt a Jedi!"

"I wish that were true, sweetheart," Satine murmurs.

_So much faith in me in me, _Obi-Wan thinks while his little son stares at him in tears. _What would happen if I brought Anakin here, left this dual life behind? _He forces a smile, combing a hand through Korkie's thick blond hair. "I can't be here to protect you two all the time."

"Why?" Korkie bursts out angrily. "Why can't you?"

Satine kneels in front of him, putting a hand briefly on his small knee. "There are those who would not take kindly to a Mandalorian and a Jedi having a child."

Korkie was still scowling, his eyes red with unshed tears. "So?"

"It's safer for all of us - for now, if we do this." Obi-Wan smiles a bit when his son sighs heavily and is beginning to accept and understand - in his childlike way - their unfortunate predicament.

"I want you here all the time," Korkie sniffs, leaning into his father's side. "I don't want you to leave."

"I know," Obi-Wan whispers, staring at the Duchess that won't meet his gaze. "I don't either."


	7. Naivety

Chapter Seven: Naivety

* * *

"You're short."

Duchess Kryze grimaces, putting a hand on her nephew's head - well, that's what the public was politely told - and manages an apologetic smile. "My apologies, Master Yoda. He is four."

"And three quarters."

"And three quarters - who could forget when you remind us ever so often?" She ruffles his hair, her smile turning genuine when Prince Klaudius huffs and tried to bat her hands away.

Yoda chuckles, folding his hands over his cane and peering at the young boy. It is nearly impossible to _not _feel the Force energy radiating off the boy. Studying the defiant and oh so familiar blue eyes and ginger locks, he eventually glances at the Duchess. A small smile crosses his face. "Proud, his father must be."

She seems to startle ever so slightly, an expression of surprise and disbelief crossing her features before smoothing out. Glancing at the Coruscanti skyline, where the Jedi Temple was visible from the Senate landing bay, she eventually nods. "He is - very proud."

"Considered him, you have, to be sent to the Temple?"

Satine narrows her eyes, pulling her son close. "The sudden disappearance of the Mandalorian Prince would raise questions."

"Perhaps...trained, he should - "

"Mama?" Korkie asks timidly, looking at her while he clutches her skirts.

"You'll find yourself on the losing end of a war if you try to take my son," Satine snaps. "And I suspect your favorite puppet will not stand by your side."

"Yours, he would?" Yoda murmurs, cocking his aged head. "Wed, you and Kenobi are not."

"No...but you underestimate his desire to protect those he loves."

* * *

Anakin can't say he _likes _working in the creche. Maybe...tolerates is the better word? He will put on a smile while he is there, then complain to Master Kenobi at dinner.

He can't say he likes his current predicament either - negotiating with a small Togruta girl to take a nap.

"I'm not tired," she mutters grouchily.

"Uh huh - I highly doubt that."

She - Allie? Alyse? Annah? - folds her arms, giving him an indignant look. "I'm _not."_

Somewhere behind him, the leader of the Clawmouse Clan smothers a snort.

He runs a hand through his short hair and sighs, opting to sit more comfortably on the mat. _This is gonna take awhile - at least I'm getting out of meditation with Obi-Wan. _"Why aren't you tired?"

The Togruta toddler cocks her head at the question, like she's never been asked such a thing before. "Why?"

"Yeah, why?" Anakin gives a small shrug. "You know you'll be tired later - why are you fighting a nap now?"

"Because there's so much to do!"

Anakin has to admit the kid has a point. But still, he knows that most of the younglings are asleep, and he has to help Master Yoda test the training sabers. "But it'll be there when you wake up."

"You sure?" She asks suspiciously, rubbing at her eyes when the Clan Leader leaves for a moment and dims the lights.

"Isn't it always there?"

"I guess…"

He refrains from rolling his eyes, watching the Togruta girl lean back on her mat and wrap the blanket around her body. _Force, I hope I don't get her as a padawan._

The Force - green, short, and holding a grimeo cane - laughs in his face.

* * *

"Do you miss her?" Siri asks suddenly, staring straight ahead at the liquor counter, listening to loud thump of the bass playing and watching the bartender pour drinks.

In her peripheral vision, Obi-Wan tenses a moment, his shot glass resting on his lips before he downs the liquid and looks at her. "Beg pardon?"

"That Mandalorian Duchess - Sabrina or Sat - "

"Satine."

Siri swirls the liquid of her own shot glass, not quite looking at him.

"We spent more than a year together - in close proximity." Obi-Wan shrugs, his voice detached. Careful, even. "It was a relationship of convenience."

"You had sex with her? I thought Mandalorians didn't believe in sex before marriage.

Something like preserving lineage and it being immoral?"

Obi-Wan gives a small smile, like he knows a secret she doesn't. He scans the crowd for their friends before glancing at her and raising his eyebrows. "I never say no to a willing bed-partner."

They both know what he means. They've fallen in bed together more than once. What did he say? A relationship of convenience. A good way to describe whatever happened between them. She knows what she feels for him, but given the fact he cried out someone else's name more than once…

Smirking, she leans in close, their breaths mingling. "You're so right."

"Am I?"

"Quinlan is _so willing_ all the time."

"Siri!"

* * *

" - stupid reckless - I can't believe you would even _think _\- gar ganar mir'osik - by the dinuis -"

Anakin went to rub his neck sheepishly, then stops and forces himself to stand perfectly still. He had hoped Obi-Wan wouldn't be angry with him - but _boy, _was he wrong.

_So much for pod-racing now, _he thinks, watching Obi-Wan pace and continue to mutter in Basic and - Mando'a?

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Obi-Wan finally demands, standing in the middle of the living room, his blue eyes blazing.

"I'll pay for the damages - "

"With _what _money? Your allowance won't cover the damages - "

"I'll find a way - "

"You crashed a Temple ship! In an illegal podrace, no less!"

"Master, no one was using the ship - they were going to sell it for scraps anyway - Master Tiin said I could - "

"Master Tiin isn't the _Council _\- he doesn't - "

"But he's _on_ the Council - "

"You could have been killed, Anakin! Do you realize that?"

Anakin takes a step back, surprised to find that his master's eyes are glassy. He looks down at the dense patterned carpet, and lets out a heavy sigh. "I'll pay for the damages, Master - and find a way to reimburse the Temple - I promise."


	8. Before the War

Chapter Eight: Before the War

* * *

"Bel?"

"Hmm?"

"I didn't say no."

* * *

"How was dinner with yesterday Mom? You weren't home when I went to bed."

Korkie regrets the words the moment they come out of his mouth. He watches his mother freeze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Across the table, his father - on a rare leave from the Jedi Order - glances up from cutting his baked potato.

"Dinner?" Dad asks, his face impassive. "Must have been enjoyable, if it went so late."

Mom puts her fork down, ignoring his father. She smiles, a faint flush on her cheeks. "It was nice, Korkie. Thank you for asking."

"A date was it?"

"It was, Obi-Wan. Care to know the details? I'm sure you'd find them fascinating."

_Oh gods, not again, _Korkie thinks. _Stop being a di'kut, Kladius._

Dad rolls his eyes, eating what was on his fork and swallowing. "Be my guest, Tina dear. Though I'm not sure our son would appreciate it."

"Hey Dad - I had a question - "

"Do you have a problem, Master Kenobi?"

Dad drops his fork and knife, his sharp gray-blue eyes glaring over the table. "Korkie...can you leave to finish your homework? I need to speak to your mother."

"Korkie," Mom mutters, her lips barely moving while she glares back. Outside, the sun is setting, making the string of pearls dangling from her ears glint. "You can stay. Your father is overreacting about my love life."

"_Klaudius." _Dad voice is like a distant thundercrack, the premature lines around his mouth deepening. "Leave. Now."

Korkie stands, his chair scraping against the floor. "It's okay, Mom. I have an essay I need to edit - Dad...can you look at it when I'm done?"

Dad flicks his gaze away, eyes softening slightly, his scowl loosening just a tad. He gives a miniscule nod.

"Thanks." He can feel their eyes on him while he walks away, through the hissing doors, up the stairs that lead to his bedchamber. He lets each foot bang against the stairs, knowing from experience that they will not start arguing until his footsteps had tapered away.

Life was easier when Mom and Dad were technically together - not this mess of arguing and sharing beds with different people.

He sighs, hearing their indistinct voices floating upwards, gradually becoming louder. Only snatches of the argument can be heard.

_" - you must be - "_

_" - my life is not yours to - "_

_" - Satine will you just - "_

Korkie listens to the door of his bedchamber hiss shut, plunging him into near darkness. Small lights twinkled on his ceiling - a map of the galaxy, painted by his mother when she was expecting him.

_" - I don't care if you sleep with half the galaxy - "_

_" - well you certainly seem to care, Obi - "_

He steps through his room, avoiding every creaky floorboard and piece of furniture. He doesn't bother to turning on his datapad, and flops on his bed. The Force is raging...just like his parents downstairs.

_" - this has nothing to do with Siri and I - "_

_" - oh really? Could have - "_

_"-I'm concerned for Korkie unlike-"_

_" - don't you dare finish - " _

He grabs a pillow and folds it over his face, taking note of all his frustration and breathing deeply. The Force hums while he expels the breath, trying to find peace in the action. He does it over and over again, until all he was focused on was his breath and not the screaming voices down the stairs.

_" - what if word - "_

_" - it's a fling, Obi-Wan. It's nothing serious - "_

_" - but you want it to be."_

Korkie rolls over, using the Force to call his headphones and music player to his hand. _A Jedi does not use the Force frivolously, my son._

_" - I like this guy - I don't need your permission - "_

_" - you can't keep Korkie's parentage secret forever - "_

_" - you're overreacting - "_

_" - am I?"_

_I'm not a Jedi, _Korkie thinks, jamming the headphones on his head and turning up the volume. He doesn't care that his mother was seeing a different man - okay, maybe he was a tad upset.

His parents love each other fiercely, but the thought them married?

The thought was enough make his head ache more than it already was.

* * *

"Why must you two argue so much?" Korkie mutters when his father sits beside him on the roof of the palace. Ever since he was little - much to his parents dismay - he had sat on the shingles outside his bedchamber. There was little alcove, invisible to possible assassins but perfect for hanging out in when he wanted to avoid everyone in existence "Why can't you just get along?"

"Our relationship is…difficult, son."

"Because politics?"

"Well…that's certainly one reason, yes."

"But you two love each other, don't you? That's not enough?"

Obi-Wan sighs, glancing over at his son who's is so, so young. Barely even fourteen. _The Jedi would consider that nearly an adult. _"Your mother…I was prepared to stay, Korkie. I wanted to leave the Order so badly, even more so when she told me she was pregnant with you."

"Then why didn't you?"

"She didn't want me too – she was scared…we both were. Absolutely terrified. A New Mandalorian and a Jedi deserter, ruling a system in ashes, raising a child conceived before marriage."

Korkie shook his head and did not respond, staring out at the Sundari skyline. He did not bother to wipe away the tears dripping down his cheeks, or attempt to quell the burst of anger within the Force.

Obi-Wan presses his lips together, staring out at the skyline. Swallowing hard, he murmured, "Korkie…there's something I need to tell you. About your mother and I…why we aren't together now. When you were about four...she – we..."

* * *

"Boba," Taun We murmurs when a boy of ten answers the door."Is your father here?"

The boy glances at Obi-Wan, then back to the Kamonian. "Yep."

Pause.

"May we see him?"

"Sure." The boy - Boba Fett - turns around and walks through the cramped hallway. "Dad! Taun We's here!"

Obi-Wan keeps his hands hidden, the folds of his cloak covering them while he walked into the sparse apartment. _Dad… _What he wouldn't give to be with his own son right now.

He is expecting a few Mandalorian artifacts, perhaps even a suit of armor...but finds the apartment surprisingly sparse. The lightning flashes and crackles outside, only just seen through the green blinds. He spins about upon hearing footsteps, well aware of the two others in the room.

"Jango," The Kamonian murmurs, turning her long head to the approaching man. "Welcome back."

Jango nods at her, a small smile on his dark face. He certainly looks like a traditional Mandalorian - black hair, sturdy build, almond-shaped eyes - _and dressed in blue._

_Not Kryze blue._

Interesting.

Taun We speaks in her deliberate voice. "Was your trip productive?"

_Productive? _Obi-Wan steps forward and gives a small bow.

"Fairly."

"This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's come to check on our progress."

"Your clones are very impressive - you must be very proud." Every inch of Obi-Wan's is skin crawling. _Living beings...made for Jedi. _

_Breathing, thinking, sentient._

_What will the Jedi think?_

_What will the public think?_

_What will Satine think?_

"I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe."

Obi-Wan stares levelly into the eyes of this man who claims to be innocent. "Ever made your way as far into the interior of Coruscant?"

"Once or twice."

"Recently?"

"Possibly."

"Then you must know Master Sifo-Dyas."

Jango quirks an eyebrow, and moves over to his son. "Boba, gebbar te kurshok." _Close the door._

Obi-Wan refuses the urge to glance over, keeping his eyes on the bounty hunter. But he knows something was up, and that makes him suppress a smile.

Jango turns around, hands folded neatly in front of him. "Master Who?"

"Sifo-Dyas. Is he not the Jedi who hired you for this job?" Obi-Wan listens to the bedroom door click closed, though his eyes remain on the elder Fett.

Jango Fett stepps closer, his face impassive. "Never heard of him."

"Really?"

"I was recruited by a man called Tyrnaus on one of the moons of Bogden."

"Curious."

Silence.

"Do you like your army?"

"I look forward to seeing them in action."

"They'll do their job well. I'll guarantee that."

"Thank you for your time, Jango." He bows his head a bit.

Jango smirks a little. "Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi."

_Always a pleasure working with Mandalorians. _Obi-Wan glares at him a moment before being led out by Taun We, looking back only once.

_I have a bad feeling about this._

* * *

His smile is grim even over the projection. _"You should get some sleep, Korkie."_

"I'm fine," Korkie mutters, his eyes half-closed. "I want to stay awake until you have to leave."

Satine sighs, wrapping an arm around their son - amazingly, the fourteen-year-old didn't resist. "Do you have any idea how long this..._deployment_ will be?"

Obi-Wan sighs, adjusting his own position on his apartment floor, leaning against his couch. _"I'm afraid not, Tina dear. We...will do our best to keep this...war from becoming to drawn out."_

She huffs, glancing away from him, looking at the fish tank bubbling away. She wants to ignore the unfortunate predicament of the galaxy so much, but she knows she cannot any longer. "Clones? Is the Republic mad?"

_"We must do what we can do end this war, Satine."_

Korkie shifts away from her, curling up at the other end of the couch and closing his eyes.

She scoffs, forcing herself to look at the man that had once shared her bed. "You are putting millions of innocent lives at risk. Young men..._padawans. _Trillions of lives, all over the Outer Rim."

_"I am not the one at fault. I did not decide this._"

"You could have said no to being a General."

"Can you two stop arguing?" Korkie murmurs in exhaustion, cracking his eyes open.

Obi-Wan rubs his jaw, looking so old and tired. _"I have to leave within a few minutes. I...don't know when I'll be able to contact you two again."_

"Well…" Satine forced down a sob. "You have our frequencies."

_"That I do...Satine, I - "_ He cuts himself short, and draws a shaky breath. _"Don't do anything rash, okay? I don't want to be have to come rescue you once again."_

Korkie smirks, burying himself in the blanket he had pulled from the top of the couch.

Satine wipes the tears from her eyes. "No promises."

A comlink chirps. Obi-Wan takes his out and sighs. _"That's my cue."_

"Stay safe, Dad. Please?"

_"I'll try."_

"Obi-Wan," Satine bites her lip when their eyes met. "May the Force be with you."

He smiles, looking like he was just barely holding it together. Within moments, however, he will bury all the feelings that are raging within him, and will school his face into one of neutrality. But for one moment, he lets the tears fall, giving a two-fingered salute before ending his transmission.

* * *

"Kit - we need to talk."

"Ooh, you're in trouble," Quinlan mutters gleefully, watching his Sabaac figure eat Kit's. "Having a good day, Aayla?"

Kit gives him a reproachful glare before looking at his angry partner, trying to ignore the uneasy prickle down his spine. "What is it, my-"

Aayla smiles a moment at her former master before taking Kit's arm and hauling him up from the couch. Her nails bite at his wrist while they stride through the Temple library, passed the confused Archivist Aides and various masters. _Let them gossip about us._

"People are looking."

"I don't care," she mutters, lekku swinging and boots clicking while they climb up the steps to the second floor and through the shelves, where few frequent. "We need privacy."

"Aayla!" Kit rubs his wrist when they reach the end of a shelf, inspecting the skin to make sure she hadn't drawn blood. "Whatever are you upset about?"

She scoffs, face obscured by shadows while she folds her arms over her chest. "Did you approve Ahsoka Tano to be Anakin's padawan?"

The question makes him blink slowly. "Why?...what are - "

"I thought Ahsoka was supposed to be Obi-Wan's padawan, not Anakin's."

"Yes, well...I suppose Obi-Wan and Yoda thought differently…Aayla, you were the one who has trained Padawan Tano in lightsaber training. You thought she was ready for apprenticeship."

"Anakin's been a knight for what...seven, eight months? He's not ready!"

"Why are you yelling at me? I'm not Obi-Wan."

Aayla groans, putting her hands over her face while she paces towards the wall. "I can't believe I have to explain this to _you _of all people."

"Beg pardon?"

"Anakin wanted to leave the Order at the start of the war."

Kit stares at his partner, not quite sure he heard right. "Anakin...Skywalker?"

"What other Anakin? The sixty-four year old Rodian in the Flight Corps? Yes, Anakin Skywalker!"

"How do you know this?"

"He talked about with Master Yoda." Aayla gave a sadistic little smile, her lekku twitching ever so slightly. "No one notices the Twi'lek in the room, darling."

He stares at her, not quite sure what to do with this information - with any of it. "Why…"

"I don't know why he wanted to leave, Kit. He didn't say…all I know is that he's knighted a few months later, and then given a padawan without his consent."

"They seem like a fine - "

"Don't you get it?! It's a slaver tactic! You give a slave an obligation, a responsibility and _they won't leave."_

Kit swallows hard, watching the tears come down her face, not _wanting _to understand, hoping nobody heard their conversation, the heavy accusation she just uttered. "My dear," he starts, reaching for her sleeved arm and watching her step away. Hand falling to his side he murmurs, "You're excusing Master Yoda - the Jedi Order - of being slavers? My own grandmaster?"

"I didn't say that...I know how much he means to you...I…" Aayla sighs, folding her arms over her chest. "Perhaps I'm letting my own experiences be projected."

"Perhaps," Kit murmurs, still watching her and feeling remarkably uneasy. His tentacles twitch, responding to the distress in the air. "You should talk to Master Yoda about - "

"No...no…" Aayla rubs at her brow and sighs. "I...might meditate on this…train some..."

"Do you want to be alone right now?" Kit grabs her wrist while she brushes by. "_Aayla."_

"I'll meet at the hangar tonight, my dear - Bant is coming home from her mission."


	9. Don't Freak Out

Chapter Nine: Don't Freak Out

* * *

_Tina: when will it be enough for you?_

_Ben: Satine?_

_Tina: For once in your life, do us all a favor and stop talking_

_Ben: It's an honor to be chosen for the Council_

_Tina: Honor? Honor? Are you kidding me?_

_Ben: Excuse me?_

_Tina: Council promotion and master status – for training Anakin to knighthood? Or for discovering an army that has put the Republic in far too much debt?_

_Ben: You forgot about my expertise in negotiation and languages, Satine_

_Ben: You cannot even pretend to happy for me, can you? Just for a moment?_

_Tina: Fine_

_Tina: Is this a permanent position? Did that green troll choose you because of your silver tongue? Will you be off the council when this sophomoric war ends?_

_Ben: 1 and 2 I presume – jealous, because my people actually like me?_

_Tina: I'm keeping them out of this war – unlike you_

_Ben: It wasn't my choice_

_Tina: Have fun playing war, Obi-Wan. Try not to die – you do have responsibilities here_

_Ben: No promises – but I'll try for Korkie's sake_

_Tina: Good_

* * *

"Just don't...don't freak out."

Bel - bless his heart - gives her an amused grin while they walk to the hangar. There is no biting sarcasm in the smile, no mincing words, no trying to start an argument. There is a bit of wit, though, when he speaks. "Why? Your old flame a pirate?"

Ahead of them, Korkie laughs, his too sharp blue eyes glancing back at the pair of them. Well, at Bel. "Dad would call himself swashbuckling."

"A flirt is a better term."

"Oh?" Bel murmurs, trying to study his fiancée's face. Even after three years of dating, he has yet to meet his future stepson's father.

They always just seemed to miss each other.

But now that'd he'd finally gotten down on his knee and proposed... things seemed to be changing. Was he nervous to finally meet this man that once - or maybe still did - have Satine's heart? Who is the father of the boy walking before him?

Of course. Who wouldn't be?

Sighing, he grasps Satine's hand when they reached the bay, not surprised to witness a ship beginning to dock.

He _is _surprised to realize that it is a _Jedi Starfighter..._and probably gaped a bit when a Jedi - wait _Obi-Wan Kenobi -_ jogs down the ramp.

Obi-Wan Kenobi paid no mind to the pair of them, to focused on catching the missile that had become Korkie. He holds the boy tightly, pressing a kiss to his brow and looking like he will never let go.

Bel turns his gaze to his fiancée, who is looking a bit amused. "A Jedi?" he murmurs, not knowing quite what to say.

Satine smirks, looking back to where her son and his father are animatedly talking, trying to cram months of stories into moments. "Well...now you understand why I was so reluctant for you two to meet." She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. "I know you don't have the best opinion of Jedi...but Obi-Wan and his master helped me survive during the Civil War - and Korkie is Force Sensitive himself."

"I…"

"Not even a word of recognition, Satine? Should I be insulted?"

Satine rolls her eyes, facing the approaching figure of Obi-Wan and Korkie. She has to admit, it is sweet to witness the protective hand he has on Korkie's shoulder. "I was making sure my fiancé didn't head into shock."

Obi-Wan Kenobi slides his gaze over to Bel, eyebrows quirking upwards. His face is impassive for a moment before he smiles and stretches out a hand. The long sleeve of his cloak hangs downwards, and his lightsaber glints ever so slightly. "Sorry for the scare - Bel, correct?"

"Mm hmm - yes, Bel. Bel Merrick." He grasps the man's hand, feeling a bit intimidated by the strong, rough hand against his own smooth, unblemished one. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, I presume?"

"Naturally." Obi-Wan rocks back on his heels, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "Don't happen to have dinner ready Tina? It was a long trip."

"A pile of sandwiches I believe," Satine turns around, skirts sweeping about her, "and some Alerddian wine."

"Oh excellent." Obi-Wan falls into step between Bel and Korkie, keeping a good pace.

"Master Kenobi -"

"Bel." Obi-Wan's voice is so low his lips barely move. "You hurt my son or Satine, and they won't find your body. Understand?"

Bel swallows hard, about to look to Satine before deciding against it. He nods.

* * *

"Damn it, I owe Korkie double his allowance."

Obi-Wan blinks, standing in the threshold of the study and at a loss for words. "Beg pardon?"

Satine smirks, dropping the flimsi in her hand and gesturing to his head. The dying sun of Coruscant halos around her, making her hair look lighter than it is – or maybe that's a bit of gray. "You cut the mullet."

One of his hands went to the nape of his neck, where he rubs the bare skin. "I did…why do you owe Korkie money?"

"I didn't believe you actually cut your hair – now I owe Korkie money."

A tired grin cracks over his face. He steps further into the study, listening to the door hiss shut. "I come to Mandalore's Coruscanti embassy to learn you and our son bet against me? For shame – I should leave to the Outer Rim once again."

She snorts, making a show of scanning the flimsi before her. "I'm not stopping you, Obi-Wan – by all means, do what you must."

"Satine." Obi-Wan shakes his head in amusement, looking around the study. It's bare of furnishings, made for practicality instead of comfort. There isn't even a tapestry of Mandalorian mythic figures, or a holo-picture of Korkie. The only scrap of originality is the blue carpet and the plush armchairs before the massive desk. He traces the curve of the armchair, staring out at the skyline, watching the speeders and ship fly by. "Is it true you are declaring Mandalore a neutral system? Becoming the leader of the so-called Neutral Systems?"

"I don't see why I need to discuss the matters of my system with you."

"It was a simple question, Satine."

"Invasive, really."

He shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest. "I just wanted to know – from you, preferably. I didn't wish to ask Korkie. He doesn't need to know how worrying this war is for us…how many colleagues we have both lost already."

Satine sighs, glancing up and meeting his sad gaze. "I am sorry about Siri."

"And I about your fiancé – Bel seemed like a good man. Korkie seemed rather upset."

She presses her lips together before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a bottle of bourbon. "Drink?"

Obi-Wan chuckles softly, strolling to her desk and reaching for the glass she has filled. "To friends?"

"To the end of the war."

"I can toast to that."

* * *

Aayla is just setting down her comlink and putting the kettle on when someone knocks on the door. She frowns, think of who it could possibly be. _Kit's visiting his uncle, Bant's on Kamino, Anakin probably at the 500 Republica, Quinlan is gods knows where… _

"It's open!"

The door swishes open, and a very tired, somewhat grubby Togrutan padawan steps over the threshold.

"Ahsoka!" Aayla smiles, walking over and gathering the young padawan in her arms. "How are you doing?"

Ahsoka is tense for a moment before relaxing into the embrace - she's not used to physical affection, and she always forgets her mentor is overly fond of it. "'m fine - tired."

Aayla steps back, scrutinizing the younger. Bloodshot eyes and a stooped posture and overly baggy sleep clothes greets her. She sighs,squeezing Ahsoka's shoulders. "Get comfortable - I have the kettle brewing."

"Why do masters always like tea anyways?"

"I don't think either of your masters prefer tea."

"The 501st goes through _so much caf," _Ahsoka agrees, curling up on the couch. She finds the quilt wedges between two cushions and wraps herself in it. "Master Kenobi has to put a limit on the amount they could consume every month."

Aayla presses her lips together to keep from laughing, taking the kettle and pouring into their mugs. (Off-handingly, she wonders when people will realize that Obi-Wan runs on alcohol, adrenaline stims, and prayer alone.) "They certainly are something - but I sense you didn't want to talk about caf, 'Soka?"

Ahsoka sighs, taking the teacup from Aayla when the latter sits and holding it to her nose. For a few moments she's quiet, staring at the steam.

"Padawan?" Aayla prompts gently, reaching for the container on the caf table that holds cookies.

"I...have...has anyone ever made comments? About you?"

Aayla blinks, having an idea where this conversation was heading. "About me? You will have to be more specific, I'm afraid."

"About...you know," Ahsoka held the teacup tighter. "Having lekku - montrals. Being…"

"Being a species that is heavily sexualized?" Aayla takes a bite of a cookie to ponder the question. "Ahsoka...you wanted to ask me because I'm a Twi'lek?"

"Well...that wasn't my only reason."

"What happened?"

Ahsoka bites her lip, looking she is about to cry. "Some of the clones...they made some comments...about my…." she gestures vaguely at her body. "Master Kenobi overheard them - I've never seen him so angry - I've never seen him angry - he yelled _so much _\- the men were court-martialed…"

"Court-martialed?" Aayla murmurs. "That's rather extreme."

"Guess they had a history of making comments...Master Kenobi just needed to catch them in the act."

Aayla shakes her head in amazement, wondering why a clone had the audacity to even say such a thing near a superior. She knows why, of course. For a sense of authority. To watch someone be demeaned and torn down by words, to let the threat of violence hang over someone's head - not caring if that someone was a part of Jedi Command.

"Ahsoka...it was probably better Master Kenobi was there...the anger of a good man...well…"

"Anakin punched a wall when he heard what happened."

_I'm surprised that's all he punched, _Aayla thought, sighing heavily. "You didn't want them to know how much this has unsettled you?"

"They...have enough on their minds."

* * *

Gregar, having heard some clattering in the kitchenette, walks slowly in the room's general direction, one hand on his pistol and muscles tense. He has a feeling of what he'll see - but he has to make sure.

The General would never forgive him for being lax about his duties if it turned something serious. He peered into the room, one hand on the light switch - and let out a sigh.

General Skywalker glances up from his datapad middrink, hair mussed and bags under his eyes. He gives a small half-smile, setting down his mug on the kitchen table and looking far too old for a twenty-year-old man. "Gregar - long time no see."

"_Sir _– what the hell are you doing? I thought an intruder was in the apartment."

"Flimsiwork - drinking hot chocolate - couldn't sleep." Anakin gestures to the datapad and mug in front of him, the sleeve of his dressing gown dragging on the surface. "I do command a legion – and I have a new apprentice, designs for the new Judicial ships to review – fun stuff."

"Fun? I'm not sure I would say any of it sounds particularly appealing."

"Maybe not – I happen to find it rather enjoyable plus - hot chocolate."

Gregar shakes his head at the half-smirk he is given, not sure how to respond – like usual. He never knows how to address the husband of the Senator. The younger man is…so odd. Cocky, but somehow terribly quiet most of the time.

Always smirking, but never quite smiling – at least until his wife was around. A mind of a genius, constantly working, never stilling long enough for a full night's sleep.

Horribly misjudged by those around him, always calculating, thinking about two hundred things at once.

No wonder the Senator fell for him.

This isn't the first time he has run into the General in various parts of the apartment – especially at night – but it always unnerves him when he does.

"Well...good night sir."

* * *

The chiming of a comlink jolts Sola out a dead sleep. Groaning, she reaches out an arm and fumbles for the receive button.

"Hello?" she grunts, aware of her husband groaning awake, wrapping an arm around her torso protectively.

_"It's the middle of night on Naboo, isn't it?"_

Sola widens her eyes and sits up, thankful she remembered to wear a nightshirt that evening when they went to bed. "Padmé! - what are you - "

_"I can't give my sister a call?"_ The holo of her little sister teases, smiling gently. _"I do apologize for not returning your call sooner - the work of a politician is never done."_

"Oh shut up, you workaholic." Sola swats her husband away while she gets out of bed and shrugs on the house robe hanging from the bedpost. "At least you deemed me worthy of your time tonight."

Padmé gives a soft laugh, elbows leaning against on a desk.

"Are you still at work?" Sola asks, walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs, into the kitchen.

_"I'm at home - I'm in my home office - I'm just - "_

"Waiting for your boyfriend to come to bed?"

_"A friend - wait -Sola, stop laughing!"_

"I'm not laughing - I swear." Sola drops the comlink on the island and heads to the freezer, where she pulls out a pint of ice-cream. "Just enjoying the fact that you keep denying us the opportunity to meet your lover-boy."

_"Oh he'd love that pet-name,"_ Padmé mutters, putting her head in her hands.

"My little sister, engaging in an affair before marriage. Our ancestors would be mortified."


	10. Back to You

Chapter Ten: Back to You

* * *

"God, can you be an more of an ignoramus?"

"Oh, are you talking about yourself Tina?"

"For the love - are you fucking kidding me? If it weren't for me you'd be dead right now!"

"Well you'd probably be dead a thousand times over - the least you could do is return the favor once in a damn while!"

Korkie grimaces while he nears the royal chambers, listening to his parents yell at each other from within. He hadn't been expecting to be pulled out of class and told to leave 'because of a family situation.'

'Family situation' usually translates too 'Dad was home unexpectedly.'

He has no idea why his father is on Kalevala, but he suspects it has something to do with the Concordia governor and Death Watch. Setting his shoulders, he lets out a soft sigh and palms open the door.

"You put yourself in danger with hair-brained schemes every day!"

"_Hair-brained schemes? _You know what, Ben - it's a bloody miracle you're even - "

Korkie watches his parents argue - his mother pacing, his father sitting on the sofa with a tumbler on the caf table - and gives a gusty sigh. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Just your father being an idiot," Mom mutters, rolling her eyes. She ignores the dirty look Dad shot her, and walks over to Korkie, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Glad you made it home okay. Traffic lanes were clogged pretty bad."

"Perks of being a prince - everyone moves out of the way" Korkire mutters, earning himself a small chuckle from his mother. He squeezed her hand and forced a smile, looking past her to his father. "Hey Pops."

Dad gives a tired smile, watching Mom stride to the bedchambers before looking at him. "You didn't need to leave class, Korkie."

Korkie walks over to the couch, giving a small shrug. "It's a shame my studies were cancelled. Really. I'm so upset."

Chuckling, Dad stands - with a slight grimace - stood and embraces him tightly. He smells of gunfire and engine fuel. "I blame myself for your sense of humor."

"Like Mom is blaming you for whatever happened on Concordia?" He murmurs, pulling away and trying not to grimace about how weird his father's armor felt.

"Ah, you heard about that." Shaking his head, Dad sits again and gestures to the armchair. "I suppose you deserve an explanation on what happened on Concordia."

* * *

"Oh thank goodness that's done," Obi-Wan mutters when they finished writing the report to the Council. He pushes back in his chair, pushing the datapad over to his padawan. "Here. It needs your signature. Yours too, Cody, Rex."

Anakin yawns, having to yank off one one his gloves to write out his signature - the datapads prefer flesh on the touchscreens. "You want to give the report to your girlfriend and let her review it?"

Obi-Wan gives a long-suffering look to his padawan, well aware of Commander Cody gulping down a snicker and Captain Rex fighting a smirk. "Why? Did you want the job? You are _very _well-versed in dealing with politicians."

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin mutters, letting his captain take the datapad. He focuses on meticulously putting the glove over his flesh hand, ignoring the shared eye-roll between the three men.

"I'll take it, if you want General." Cody makes to stand, grasping the datapad. "I'm on night patrol anyways."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "I'll do it, Cody. I do not believe Her Grace would be too pleased to have a soldier at her door."

"Unless it's you?" Anakin asks impishly, and winces when he is cuffed upside the head. "Hey! Obi-Wan!"

"Get some dinner, Anakin. Some sleep too."

* * *

"Had you said the word?" Satine mutters while she finishes reading the report. Being held hostage and nearly assassinated by Merrick had evidently not shaken her too badly, considering how she is practically snarling at the man that is the father of her son.

"You know damn well I would have left the Order had you asked. I should have - _without your permission._"

She drops the datapad on the couch cushion, glaring at him from her spot on the back of the couch. "There are cameras in these halls."

He turns his head from watching the streaks of hyperspace, eyebrows raised. "Cameras? We're in your private chambers, _my dear - "_

"People who have prejudices about Jedi and Mandalorians - "

He scoffs, still feeling the fear and adrenaline of the past few hours pumping through his veins. _Tal nearly killed Satine, nearly blew up the Coronet… _"People who have prejudices? Are we speaking of yourself? Not allowing me to - "

She rolls her eyes and straightens. "Myself? You scruffy-looking - "

"Oh, how eloquent. Back to the insults, when only moments ago you were declaring your undying love for me."

"Declaring our _love," _she spits the word, "resulted in our _son."_

"Who speaks to me more than you!"

"He is away at school! Learning to guide the galaxy the _Separatist _and _your precious Republic _is destroying!"

"Some might say the Mandalorians played a role in destroying the galaxy!"

Satine doesn't realize she has been stalking towards him - the two of them were circling each other really - until they are nose-to-nose, eyes blazing, breaths mingling. She takes a steadying breath, and jabbs a finger into his armor. _Why must he wear this? _"Don't insult my people."

He grasps her wrist, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "Don't insult mine."

_Anyone who believes he is not predatory is a fool. _"What would your precious Order think of this?" She knows he can feel her quickening pulse.

"What would your people think?" His words are quiet, lips pulling into a small smile.

"They'd be quite scandalized," she mutters, knowing how their current predicament will end and not really caring.

"As would mine."

She tilts her head up, studying his darkening eyes. "There's a bedchamber three meters away."

Obi-Wan steps closer, hands falling to her hips, head dropping to the crook of her neck, where he presses his lips to her neck and mutters, "There's a wall behind you."

Satine swallows back a gasp, knowing she was fighting a losing battle, stumbling into the wall and not really caring. "We haven't made love for years - are you sure you're - "

He knows this is a bad idea. He knows that it's a bad idea, to - well, to put it bluntly, to have sex with his baby mama.

..._the last time they had sex ended in so much pain…_

But that a decade ago.

Satine threads her fingers through his hair, gasping into his mouth when they finally kiss, all teeth and tongue. It's not romantic, not in the slightest - her legs around around his waist, for goddesses sakes, his hips and chest pinning her to the wall, his hand is fumbling through her many skirts and trying to find skin.

"Oh god - _Ben." _She shudders when his fingers make contact, nails scratching against his scalp and head burying into his neck, teeth biting at his skin.

* * *

_"You put yourself in danger - Korkie, Ahsoka - in danger!"_

"Like you've _never _put Anakin or Ahsoka in - "

_"That is beside the point Satine!"_

"Have I ever gotten angry at you for doing something - "

_"Yes!"_

Korkie rolls his eyes while his parents bicker via Holocam, slumping in his seat and watching them. For the past two hours he's listened to them, barely able to get more than a few words in. From what he can gather, Dad hadn't been present when Mom requested the Jedi Council's help. Dad had been _somewhere_ in the Outer Rim, fighting Separatists while Ahsoka and Korkie risked their lives to discover the plot involving Prime Minister Almec.

Or - former Prime Minister Almec.

He is worried about what this means for the future of Mandalore - but those worries, however, are drowned out by Mom scoffing loudly and Dad talking over her in frustration.

_" - do you realize you could have been killed? All of you?"_

"Ben darling, please _shut up."_

_Ben darling._

_Mom only calls him that when…_

Korkie sits up straight, suddenly - wary? Elated? "Wait - you two guys are back together? _Again?"_

"Now's not the time for that discussion, Korkie," Mom mutters, brushing hair from her eyes. Without her cosmetics and jewelry and formal robes and headdress, well - she looks less like a ruler and more just like...Mom.

_"Satine my dear…"_

"Shouldn't I be privy to this knowledge?" Korkie asks, glancing between them.

Mom looks at Dad, the two of them having an unspoken conversation. His hologram folds his arms together and gives a small shrug. Picking at her palms, she says slowly, "Your father and I - we - we've been trying to work things out."

"Dad - are you leaving the - "

Dad sighs heavily, shaking his head before the sentence is finished. _"No, son - I'm not leaving the Order - not without due reason."_

"Mom and I aren't reason enough?" Korkie asks before he can stop himself, his voice going up a few octaves.

"Korkie - "

_"Son - "_

"Have we ever been?" Korkie demands, getting to his feet. He's rarely angry at his father, but right now, when Dad is hundreds of parsecs away from them, he feels frustrated and hopeless and terribly alone. "Have we ever been enough for you?"

_"Korkie,"_ Dad whispers, his face full of pain. Eyebrows scrunched together, he glances at Mom for help.

Mom reaches out to put a hand on Korkie's shoulder, to tug him back down to the couch.

Korkie steps away, feeling like he might cry. "You'll never be satisfied, will you? You won't be satisfied until you're the damn master of the Order!"


	11. Moments of Rest

Chapter Eleven: Moments of Rest

* * *

"Can you teach me how to do that?"

Obi-Wan speaks while pivoting, gracefully blocking Anakin's lightsaber with his two. Arms raised above his head, the below of the lightsabers reflected his flushed face. "Teach you what?"

Anakin shoves against the dual blades, grinning when his master is forced to step back and avoid a swipe. He dares to glance up, towards the observation deck of the dojo. "Whattcha talking about -" he dodges when Obi-Wan tries to lunge. "Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan shrugs, lazily twirling his dual blades around while the two circle each other. Somewhere during the fight he had abandoned his tunics, revealing a sculpted torso littered with puckered scars and tattoos. "You left an opening by becoming distracted."

"I was talking to my padawan!"

Ahsoka rolls her eyes at her bickering masters. They are a great team, but _so dramatic._ "Can you teach me Jar-Kai, Master Kenobi?"

"Don't you know the basics?" Anakin shouts while Obi-Wan tries to attack again. He jumps, neatly flipping over Obi-Wan.

"Yeah, but - "

Obi-Wan pivots while Anakin lands, smirking when they ended up pointing their respective lightsabers at each other's necks.

"I believe I win, my young Padawan."

Anakin disengages his lightsaber and runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "You cheated."

"How, pray tell?" Obi-Wan murmurs in exhaustion, disengaging his own lightsabers.

"By - I deserve a re - "

"Masters!" Ahsoka groans, putting her head on the rail. "Jar-Kai?"

"I can show you some of the advanced forms now, Ahsoka," Master Kenobi calls, wiping a hand over his face. "That is, if you don't mind not doing a rematch, Anakin? I don't want to hurt your feelings?"

Ahsoka grins, scrambling down the observation deck stairs.

"You barely know than the advanced forms of Jar-Kai," Anakin mutters while watching his padawan pick an extra lightsaber from the rack.

"Yes, but how often do we get to teach anymore? Besides," Obi-Wan grins at the young man he had raised. "I rather enjoy stealing your padawan from time to time."

"Hey!"

* * *

The halls of the Temple are quiet at night. Mace walks down then slowly, feeling the quiet hum of hundreds of kyber crystals and pulse of several hundred individuals. It's a bit maddening, he has to admit, always feeling everyone's faint emotions.

No wonder so many Jedi relied on sleep aids - it was the only way to get a decent amount of rest.

But even with sleep aids and drowsy teas and meditation Mace has been finding it increasingly harder to sleep. Too many thoughts, too many whispers of the dead, too much work to do. He's been pacing the halls as of late, trying to tire himself out.

Tonight he weaves to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, welcoming it's humidity and quiet trickle of water. Plants brush against the bits of skin he has exposed, some leaving sticky residue on his skin.

"Who's there?" Mace calls cautiously when he sees a shadow against one of the walls, one hand drifting to his lightsaber. It's stupid, to be this tense - he's in the kriffing Room of a Thousand Fountains, for Sith's sakes - but these new habits of constantly being prepared for a threat makes is too deeply ingrained.

Quiet footsteps come closer, and a hand pushes some branches away. "Sorry, Master Windu."

Mace rolls his eyes, feeling his shoulders untense gradually. "Caleb - what are you doing awake? It's past curfew."

"Yeah but - " Caleb shrugs sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robe. "I couldn't sleep. I wanted to walk around."

There's a part of him that wants to chastise the young Padawan, send him straight back to bed and resume his meditation walk - but Depa would hear how he treated her padawan, and he really doesn't want to listen to it.

Sighing, he murmurs, "Nightmares?"

Caleb nods, looking a bit tearful. "There's so much screaming - I thought someone dropping a crate above me was gunfire."

Mace frowns. He's seen the effect the war has had on the padawans - hell, he's seen the effect it has had on the entire Order. All of them - even the service droids - looked like energy deprived zombies.

"I'll make a deal with you, Caleb. I won't write you up for being out past curfew - but only if we agree to not tell Depa."

Caleb raises a sharp eyebrow - really, the kid was a bit too intelligent - and falls in step beside him. "You want to spend time with me, don't you? You're my grandmaster, after all."

_"Padawan - _don't make me change my mind."

* * *

If there's one thing he's learned, it's that a giggling Bant should be feared.

A giggling Bant armed with a holoprojector, Quinlan and Garen should have taught him to run away to Hoth.

_Oh dear Force._

But he's Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he sets his tray down at the cafeteria table, only mildly suspicious when they click it off and continue to sputter.

"Obi-Wan," Garen Muln greets, rising from his seat and offering an embrace. "How's the front treating you?"

"Awful," Obi-Wan laughs, pulling his old friend close. "I've never liked Temple food more than I do now."

"Hate leads to the Dark Side," Quinlan says solemnly, though his serious expression lasts for half-a-click before he starts laughing. That gains a few looks, but most ignore the rambunctious group. Meals with friends are hard-pressed these days.

Obi-Wan lets out his own laugh, and takes a seat. "Quinlan - is Aayla feeling okay? I heard she was admitted to the Healing Halls?"

Quinlan swallows his noodles - which are actually live, slippery fish wriggling between his chopsticks - and flashes a small smile. "She was. One of the padawan's caught a nasty flu strain and is passing it to everyone in the Halls. Master Fisto hasn't left her side."

Obi-Wan nods, taking a drink from his Jawa juice. "You quarantined the Padawan, Bant?"

"Probably too late."

"Wonderful. I could be infected now and not notice. Start sneezing while giving orders. Infect a whole platoon in their sleep - Garen, why are you laughing?"

Garen shakes his head, trying to steady his breathing. "No reason?"

Obi-Wan sets down his chopsticks and narrows his eyes at the three giggling Jedi before him. "Does it have _anything_ to do with the holoprojector you were staring at?"

"No?" Bant offers weakly, while Quinlan nods in affirmation.

"What does sleeping having anything to do with...kriff," he mutters when Quinlan drops the flimsi-paper on the table. A picture of Duchess Satine and himself stares back at him - a rather raunchy picture, taken while she was still on Coruscant after the Death Watch debacle. Obi-Wan is sitting on her apartment terrace chair, kissing Satine while she straddles him. The public may not know it's raunchy - the camera can't witness _other _things that were happening below the many layers of fabric.

The title reads cleverly: _"Secrets of the Negotiator Exposed?"_

"Damn it," Obi-Wan mutters, putting his head in his hands. "Please tell me that's the only photo?"

"Well…" Garen pulls out his portable datapad and does a quick search. "There's a picture of you two dancing at that gala a few weeks ago. Leaving the gala together. Oh, here's one of you leaving her apartment on Coruscant - actually, there are several. Someone snapped a picture of you guys on Sundari...making out. In a garden. And a library as twenty-year...and maybe - can you two keep your hands off of each other?"

"Thank the Force there's not a Kenobi-Kryze running around the Galaxy," Bant mutters with a shutter. "The sass on that one."

"Oh, but that hair would revival Master Qui-Gon's," Quinlan murmurs.

Obi-Wan doesn't comment, though he thinks to himself, _Kryze-Kenobi. Korkie uses Kryze first._


	12. Kryze-Kenobi

Chapter Twelve: Kryze-Kenobi

* * *

Obi-Wan doesn't mind transparency in a government. It promotes politicians to remain kind and benefactoral towards their people, and encourages good relations between all classes, and laws that would benefit everyone.

He does mind, however, the Republic sending in _Holonet _reporters into a kriffing _battlefield._

He grinds his teeth together when the Chancellor suggests, stomping down the urge to yell, "_Are you bloody mad? That's one more life we have to monitor, one more mouth to feed, one more, one more, one more…"_

Anakin is all for it. Senator Amidala too. Even Mace wants to do it.

Master Yoda is a bit skeptical - he wants to preserve the Jedi and the Clones privacy, but he knows the public's trust of the Jedi is wearing thin, and something must be done to rectify the situation.

Instead of sending a reporter with _every _army, they decide on putting one in _The Third Systems Army. _With Obi-Wan and Cody. For two months.

Obi-Wan feels bad for the bright-eyed, wanderlusting reporter Coruscanti Central sends on their mission to Felucia. He watched the Twi'lekki eagerly film everything, from take-off procedure to meals in the mess hall, knowing it would only get worse.

The legions below him are spread thin over several dozen parsecs, and he decides to cut the 501st in half - Anakin's team will drop out of hyperspace and into a battle, using just enough firepower to draw the Separatist attention from Ahsoka's team, which will land on-planet with much needed humanitarian supplies.

He waits on the bridge to parsecs away, anxiously waiting for news on the 501st, the 506th, and the 333rd. The computers flicker simultaneously, showing the results and messages from all the dozens of legions he is in charge of. Cody is beside him, helmet tucked under his arm, studying the analytics flashing on the screen.

"340th abstained some heavy losses," Obi-Wan comments.

"Think we should put shinies in or rearrange some troops?"

He shrugs, half-ignoring the reporter chattering to a clone taking down stats. "I'd really like to take wounded clones and create a division for them. For humanitarian efforts. It worked for General Eerin."

"Position them where? Coruscant?"

Obi-Wan smirks at the scoff, knowing full well his commander's disdain for the planet. He senses the reporter a few steps closer than before, and murmurs, "Your question, my friend?"

"Could you by any chance highlight your relationship with Duchess Satine?"

"Could you by any chance highlight why people are so intrigued by it?' Obi-Wan asks, raising an eyebrow. He won't hide the fact that he and Satine are together - by Force, it seems utterly ridiculous too - and folds his arms and gives a small smile. "We are adults. We can our own choices, regardless of public opinion."

"But the Jedi and Mandalore - "

"Are peaceful, at the moment. We should focus on the positives, not the gossip."

* * *

"This is the bridge. Where the magic happens."

"By magic I presume you are talking about all the times you stand in the center trying to convince your men that your hair looks pretty?"

Cody exchanges a bewildered look with one of the navigational officers, and climbs out of the bay to the bridge walkway. He salutes upon seeing his Jedi general and the Mandalorian prince strolling towards him. "General."

"Cody," General Kenobi greets warmly, his voice chirper than it had been in weeks. His hand rests on the Prince's shoulder momentarily. "This is Duchess' Kryze nephew, Prince Klaudius."

"You're Commander Cody?" The Mandalorian prince asks, eyebrows ticked up in what might have been amusement. He comes forward, hand extended and completely unawares of all the clones gaping at the sight. "I want to thank you for keeping Obi-Wan's ass alive all these months. It must be a difficult job."

Cody blinks, glancing at his General - who is rolling his eyes affectionately - and then to the Prince. "Always a pleasure Your Highness," he mutters, grasping the Prince's hand. He has to fight a grimace - the grip is surprisingly strong.

"Please - call me Korkie. Your Highness is Duchess Kryze."

"Umm...right."

"Korkie's ship hailed ours about two hours ago - they were running out of fuel. Lucky we're both heading to Coruscant, or else this could have been disastrous."

"Why did you run out of fuel?" Cody asks, tucking his hands behind his back while they stepped to the observation deck.

"We were pursued by bounty hunters. It was stupid, really, to be traveling with the Kryze seal on a ship. Should have used something else."

General Kenobi glances at the prince, smiling for what might have been the first time in months. "Yes, but then our scanners might not have been able to identify your ship."

Korkie gives the General an amused look. "I hardly doubt that, General Kenobi. You are a Jedi - you would have sensed my presence."

"Force sensitives are easier to trace."

"There is a theory that Mandalorians are often Force sensitive - did you perhaps miss it while you were otherwise occupied?"

Cody fights to keep a straight face, turning away while his General shakes his head and the Prince grins proudly at the jest he has made. It was going to be a long voyage to Coruscant.

* * *

_Kenobes: Can you pick me up from the Senate?_

_Anakin: cant you get a taxi? or take a shuttlebus?_

_Anakin: ask your girlfriend ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)_

_Kenobes: For the last time, Anakin - Duchess Kryze is not my girlfriend. Can you or Ahsoka pick me up from the Senate?_

_Anakin: Fine fine - yeah, I can pick you up at the hangar. I'm here anyway_

_Kenobes: ...what?_

_Anakin: look up - I'm waving_

_Anakin: not your girlfriend huh? Why are you in the Mandalorian Senate pod?_

_Kenobes: Why are you in the Nubian pod?_

_-Skywalker has left the conversation_

* * *

"You will give me gray hair before I'm forty," Obi-Wan says by way of greeting. The Senate hangar is rather empty right now - few Senators take their personal speeders to meetings.

Anakin grins, pushing off of the shuttle and grinning. "Prince Kryze - nice to see you again."

Korkie inclines his head, a faint smile on his lips. "Likewise, General Skywalker. How's Ahsoka?"

"Ill, at the moment - a stomach flu is cycling through the Temple. I'll give her your best?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you."

"You're on Coruscant alone?" Anakin asks, scanning the space behind them for the Duchess. "Aren't you a little young to be traveling alone?"

"Aren't you a little young to be a Jedi knight?"

Anakin blinks, unsure how to react.

Obi-Wan turns his head away and pressing lips together to refrain from laughing. Fortunately for him, his comlink dings right then, and he excuses himself...leaving his son and his padawan to talk to each other.

Korkie does his best not to grimace at the prospect of being alone with _Anakin Skywalker. _He turns his head to the ship, recognizing the thing from the Holonet. "That's a modified Cloakshape Starfighter right? Built for the Judicial Forces of the Galactic Republic?"

"Whitecloak fighter, actually - you like flying?" Anakin asks, a bit surprised and excited that the Prince of Mandalore is interested. _Maybe the kid is actually normal after all._

Prince Kryze gives a small shrug, scratching at his chin. "Like and appreciate are two separate things, General Skywalker. I am a decent pilot but... flying's for droids."

Anakin raises an eyebrow, glancing back at his master, who's still talking on his comlink...to Cody maybe? It's hard to tell. "Where did you hear that phrase, Your Highness?"

"Couldn't remember...why?"

It unnerves Anakin, the way the prince is smirking and looking at him. Like someone has told a joke and he missed the punchline. Rubbing at his neck, his mutters, "General Kenobi is fond of that phrase."

"Is he? Interesting. Guess we have more in common than I thought."

"More?" Anakin asks before he can stop himself. _How long has Obi-Wan known this kid? What isn't he telling me?_

_No...Korkie can't be…_

He shakes his head at the ridiculous thought, and smiles at the Prince. "Do you happen to like opera?"


	13. When on Holiday

Chapter Thirteen: When On Holiday

* * *

Through a shipment mix-up, the supplies for a food-deprived colony was en-route to Coruscant, and he - along with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Padmé - were stuck on-planet while a company was sent to intercept the ship. All they had were rations and each other's company.

"At least we have food," Ahsoka chirps when Obi-Wan grumbles about having to eat rations _again_. "I'm not to keen on waking up on an empty stomach."

"It's not fun," Anakin mutters, glancing at his wife when her fingers brush against his arm soothingly. He darts a glance to his master, whose tending the fire and not noticing their interactions.

"At least we have the Twilight," Padmé says, gesturing to the ship behind them. "Thermal blankets too."

"I suppose - still wish we were a bit more prepared." Obi-Wan folds his cloak around him, sitting down on the ground and sighing. "A nice cup of tea would be lovely."

"I have packets of caf."

"Hard pass, Anakin."

"How long do you think the cruiser will be?" Ahsoka asks, shoving the rest of her ration in her mouth.

Obi-Wan ponders for a moment, staring at the sky filled with stars and tracing the Mandalore system carefully. He wonders what his small family is doing right now. "Probably two days?"

"Which means we have to ration out our rations." Padmé shakes her head, glancing down at her ration bar and suddenly not feeling hungry. She looks to the young padawan, the lights of the colony behind her montrals. "Ahsoka - here. I ate just before we left." _Lies._

Ahsoka blinks, wanting to deny the food - but her hunger easily overpowers her senses. She reaches over and takes the crumbling ration bar. "Thanks, Senator."

"Of course, Ahsoka." She ignores Anakin frowning at her.

"I can take first watch - " Obi-Wan begins before getting a hard look from the rest of the small party.

"I'll take first watch, Obi-Wan." Anakin smiles at his master's huff. "You need sleep, master - especially if you're gonna be on Mandalore soon for the holiday.."

"If you insist," Obi-Wan mutters, standing and starting to walk into the Twilight. "Wake me up if there's any trouble."

"Tie him to the bunks if he tries to take watch," Anakin says to Ahsoka when she begins to follow the elder master.

"Naturally."

He smiles, watching his young padawan leave before looking at his bemused wife. "What?"

"I still can't believe they let you teach."

"Hey - I'm a great teacher!" Anakin leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I haven't messed her up yet, have I?"

Padmé shakes her head, leaning her head against his shoulder. "She's a good kid."

"Mmm - here." Anakin presses his ration bar into her hand, ignoring her protests. "I can stand a little hunger."

"Ani - "

"What good would the Galaxy be if their favorite Senator is weak from hungar? Eat it, Padmé. Please."

She bites into the ration bar. "Happy?"

Anakin reaches for her free hand and brings it to his lips. "As long as I'm with you, then yes, I am."

* * *

"Obi! You're - what all this?" Satine asks, hearing the door slide shut behind her. She examines the dim sitting room, lit only by candles and the glow from the fish tank. There are platters of food on laid out on the caf table, two glasses of wine, and a very full bottle of wine.

Obi-Wan shrugs, finishing lighting the last candle before looking at her. He looks a little worse for wear, but looked cheerful enough - even if one his wrists is in a medical brace and his beard is a bit overgrown. "Surely you haven't forgotten what this week is, darling?"

She hadn't, but banter is something they seemed to have forgotten in recent years. The stress of ruling a system and the war had left little time for them to enjoy each other. Feeling her shoulders begin to relax, she walks to him and grasps his outstretched hand. "I suppose you'll have to remind me, my dear."

The candlelight catches the mischievous glint in his eyes. He tugs her close and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Happy Festival of Stars, Satine."

"You did all this?" Satine asks, allowing herself to be seated on the plush sofa. Her eyes light up when she saw the Corellian chocolates that have been rarely available, with the war and all. "You managed to take the week off from the Order? Like everyone else in the Galaxy?"

"There aren't many people in the Temple, to be perfectly honest. Most are visiting loved ones - and don't fret, my dear. I did not cook any of this." Obi-Wan sits, using the Force to call the wine bottle to him. He grins at her snort, uncorking the bottle with ease. "The kitchen staff was more than willing to aid me."

It's strange, to take the evening and focus on nothing but each other. It's a simple pleasure, eating a meal with her cyar'ika. She wonders how many people take it for granted, coming home to their families every day.

What was the old adage her father used to say?

_Alit ori'shya tal'din. _Family is more than blood.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked softly, tracing her arm.

She purses her lips, staring at the wine glass in hand. How many glasses had she drunk?

Obi-Wan frowns, setting the wine glass on the caf table. "Satine?"

She sets her own glass down, shifting to face him. The woman in her can't help but notice the way Obi-Wan looked at her, blue eyes filled with concern and love. Or how he kept a hand on her thigh, fingers grazing moving the fabric of her skirt.

How different this moment was from so many years ago. They had never hid their love - unlike some friends of theirs - but circumstances for them had always been different. Duty and Korkie came before love. Simple. Easy? No.

But their moments had always been stolen, in ship bunks and burrowed apartments, during nights to short and mornings filled with hushed moans and little believed promises.

It seemed so...normal, sharing a quiet meal at her Jedi lover, knowing their son would be coming home tomorrow, and the Galaxy might breathe a little for the festival week.

Both of them pretending this would last forever.

Obi-Wan sighs, fingers moving over her cheek and titling her chin up to meet his gaze. "Focus on the present, my dear."

Satine closes her eyes, feeling him wipe away the tears that had begun to trickle down her face. A small smile crosses her face.

_How he always knew what she was thinking is beyond her._

* * *

" - this government - I wonder what would have happened if I just let everybody keep hurting each other."

"You can't possibly mean that, my dear."

Satine huffs, finishing braiding her damp hair and glancing over to the bed. "No, but I really want to envision that fantasy sometimes."

Lying down on the bed, his arms behind his head, Obi-Wan laughs. "Your people are lucky to have you."

"My purpose hasn't run out," she mutters dryly, standing. "I just don't understand - why does everyone insist on pointless slaughter? When is enough enough?"

"That...I do not know the answer to."

Satine shakes her head, tossing the towel around her body onto the vanity.

"I must admit I am a bit nervous of what your people will think of me..."

"Just wave your lightsaber around and you'll be fine." Satine knows without looking at him that he's smirking at her wordplay - and her naked body. Shaking her head, she mutters. "You dirty minded man."

"I apologize, my fair lady. I did not mean to offend."

"Yes, but it got me thinking of - Ben?"

"Mmm?" Obi-Wan gives a tired smile while she sits on his stomach, putting a hand on her knee. "I was just caught off guard by how beautiful you are."

"Flattery won't get you sex, dear. You have to try harder than that."

Obi-Wan laughs outright this time, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "No, that's not what I wish."

"Oh? Who are you and what have you done with Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

He doesn't answer, tracing the puckered, messily healed C-section scar from her navel to her pubic hair.

She watches his fingers curiously, grimacing and remembering the painful labor of their son, the emergency cesarean section and the scar that never quite healed right, even now, well over a decade later.

"Have you ever thought of having another child? Doing it all over again?"

"Have - do - what made you think of _that,_ Obi? We have a son and - "

"But we would be able to raise a child in peace...side by side...we're not too old by any means."

"Being pregnant...giving birth...it's not fun."

"I'd imagine not," he whispers, and there's pain in the words, because she didn't allow him to be there...and that's a wound they still hadn't recovered from entirely.

She sighs heavily, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I...maybe when the war ends...and when we've had a year or two to ourselves...maybe I'd consider it."

"You'll be on Coruscant soon won't you?"

Satine leans her head onto his shoulder and nods. "In about six weeks - your campaign ends the day before doesn't it?"

"I'll probably come in during the Senate session," he murmurs, holding her close when she stretches out beside him.


	14. Thirty-Six Hours on Courscant

Chapter Fourteen: Thirty-Six Hours on Coruscant

* * *

Anakin shifts from foot to foot, rolling the shoulder that connected to his mechanical arm. It had been acting up lately, shorting out during battle. The fingers flexed now - without his will - and he grits his teeth together.

The field medics have warned him about the dangers - the electricity could eventually travel to his heart, potentially causing a heart attack. He is twenty, damn it.

He is too young for this bantha shit.

Beside him in the Senate pod, Obi-Wan murmurs, "I told you to take pain-meds, Anakin."

Anakin rolls his eyes. "My apologies for not listening to your sage advice, Master Kenobi."

"Oh, when do you ever?"

"Very funny."

Half of Obi-Wan's mouth turns up in a smirk, and he refocuses his attentions on the Senate floor. The Representatives from Kalevala and Cato Neimoidia were arguing, largely ignoring Amedda's attempts to calm them while their voices rose.

"You need a standing army to defend - "

"Our people are plenty capable of defending against any Separatist - "

"With what weapons? Didn't your _dear _Duchess - "

"Senators, please - "

One of the pods shoots forward, revealing a blonde woman with an elaborate headdress and blue robes.

She speaks quietly, but her voice commands the attentions of everyone in the chamber. "Enough. I did not travel here to discuss weaponry - our trade is dwindling. My people have no medical supplies and are fearing a food shortage."

Beside him, Obi-Wan suddenly stiffens.

"What's wrong?" Anakin asks, looking at the fidgeting Jedi master. "Do you sense something?"

"Only my impending doom." Obi-Wan glances into the hallway, then back at the blonde currently speaking to the Senate. "I should do a security check - "

Anakin feels his lips curl into a grin while he studies the blonde speaking quite passionately about her planet's neutrality and the lack of supplies coming into the planet. "Captain Typho took R2 a few minutes ago. We're fine, Master."

"Fine," Obi-Wan mutters sarcastically. He taps the controls of the pod.

"Have you spoken to the Duchess since the last time she was on Coruscant?"

Obi-Wan grinds his teeth together before saying, "I will be a moment, Anakin."

Anakin opens his mouth to speak, but the master was already gone. He runs a his fingers through his lengthening hair, still grateful that his padawan braid is no longer there (it's been nearing what? A year and a half since he received his knightship?) It was getting rather obnoxious in battle, always hitting him in the face and making Captain Rex swallow back snickers every time it happened.

The Senate session doesn't last much longer - roughly two hours. His master has yet to come back.

Padmé is scowling when her pod docks, taking the hand he offers and stepping down. The scowls immediately turns into a small smile when she catches sight of his expression. "That face - what are you planning, Ani?"

"I have no idea what you mean, Angel."

She rolls her eyes, squeezing his hand before dropping it and walking into the halls of the Senate. Bodies and voices surround them, making conversation hard to manage. They walk side by side, enjoying each other's company. It would not be long before he left for the Outer Rim again, so any time spent together was much welcomed.

"Padmé!"

They turn, spotting Duchess Kryze move through the crowd. Well - the crowd was moving for _her._

"Satine!" Padmé smiles, embracing the elder woman warmly. "Enjoy the Senate meeting?"

"Hardly," Satine draws away, and glances to him. "Knight Skywalker - it's good to see you."

Anakin bows his head while the three began to walk towards the elevators, which were just around the corner. He suppresses a small smile at the particular Force Signature coming towards them, and looks to the Duchess. "You as well, Satine. How's Korkie?"

"Oh that topic is a pleasant change from politics." Satine smiles, a rare smile of joy that seems all too rare on most people's faces nowadays. "He's well - he's second in his class."

"Only second? What, did he fail intergalactic politics?" Anakin teases, and grins at the women when they roll their eyes. He glances at the nearing bend, searching through the crowd of people around them.

_Come on, Kenobes._

"Some of the professors aren't terribly fond of him," Satine admits. "He believes it's because - "

_Crash!_

Everyone's heads turn at the sound, eyes widening while they watch Obi-Wan Kenobi come around the bend and stumble straight into Duchess Kryze. Or maybe she stumbles into him. It's was hard to tell what is happening - only that they are apologizing profusely, trying to smooth their clothes, not realizing who the other was.

_Yet._

Anakin steps neatly away, tugging his wife's wrist discreetly so she wouldn't be caught in the tangle of limbs. He smirks when the Duchess' headdress rolls to his feet, and calls Kenobi's now smashed datapad to his hands.

"Bummer - I gave this to him for his Lifeday," Anakin mutters, and grins over at his wife, who was pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan is beginning to realize who the blonde stranger is. "Satine," he mutters lamely, straightening up and staring. "Hi."

"Well that's not the first time you've fallen for me," Satine murmurs back, raising her eyebrows at him.

Obi-Wan smiles, surveying the watching crowd. He focuses on his sniggering former padawan, wondering what he had to do with it. "Yes well - I'll….see you around. Anakin - we need to head to the Temple. Emergency meeting."

She nods, accepting the headdress from Anakin. "May the Force be with you on your mission."

"Of course - may your gods be with you."

Satine smiles, watching the two Jedi leave - for now.

* * *

_Korkie: I heard you ran into mom - quite literally_

_Pops: how?..._

_Korkie: someone posted the footage on the holonet_

_Pops: of course they did_

_Korkie: when does your next mission begin?_

_Pops: two days from now. Can't tell you where i'll be. security - why?_

_Korkie: was hoping to comm you. Wanted to wish you well._

_Pops: now sound good?_

_Korkie: sure. Love you._

_Pops: love you too son._

* * *

_Tina: you crushed part of my headdress_

_Ben: oh no, what a nightmare._

_Tina: why was I even wondering if you'd be apologetic?_

_Ben: I have 36hrs before I leave - dinner and cinema tonight? 19:00?_

_Tina: you're paying. you need to make up for that headdress_

_Ben: how will i ever do that, my dear? ;)_

_Tina: you're sleeping on the couch_

_Ben: ...i deserve that_

* * *

Obi-Wan doesn't know what wakes him. He believes it's the shifting of the blonde beauty in his arms, and lightning storm occurring outside - New Mandalorians are known for their love of window decorations and stained glass, and that's how Satine's apartment on Coruscant is decorated.

How she convinced an apartment owner to renovate to such an extreme was beyond him.

But then again - she probably owned the apartment building.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan gently untangles himself and steps out of bed. The air is cool on his skin, a welcome distraction from the nightmares from the previous night.

"What is the Force telling me?" Obi-Wan murmurs, staring out at the Coruscanti skyline. He watches the speeders and shuttles fly by, their passengers completely unawares of the turmoil inside of him.

Tucking his hand behind his back, he studies a familiar apartment building in the distance. He wonders about Anakin, how much of a strain the young man was under, what sort of secrets that must be kept in a dual life.

_But here I am, doing the same thing, _Obi-Wan realizes when he glances over to a snoring Duchess wrapped in blankets. _Trying to make this work._

He remembers the years before the Trade Federation blockade, where he spent every leave on Mandalore.

Where they fought and bickered and apologized long enough to fuck.

But neither of them were fumbling youths now. They'd both moved on - ha! - had relationships, loved and lost, found their pleasures outside of each other. They'd grown, matured, been thrown trials, raised children to somewhat functioning maturity.

He shook his head, and wanders into the kitchenette. Satine had dismissed the guards the previous night, narrowing her eyes until they left. Only a probe into the Force made him aware that the guards were just outside the apartment, ready to protect their Duchess at a moment's notice.

Protect their Duchess from the likes of _Obi-Wan Kenobi._

He brews water for tea - caf for Satine - because that's what couples did right? She comes in while the kettle is screeching, blearily-eyed and muttering, "That's why I like instant. There's none of that awful sound."

"Well aren't you a delight," he counters, pouring the water into mugs, over their respective packets of tea and caf.

Satine hops up on the table, rubbing at her eyes and not bothering to adjust her - _his -_ tunic when it dips a bit too low on her chest and reveals a bit too much of her legs. Not that he really minds, either. "When do you have to be at the Temple?"


	15. Say Yes

Chapter Fifteen: Say Yes

* * *

"You have to _what?"_

Obi-Wan grimaces, not wanting to look at his riddur and son. He stares at the carpeted floor, fingers loosely clasped together, hands on his knees. "I have to fake my death...obtain the identity of Rako Hardeen...to foil Count Dooku's plot to assassinate Chancellor Palpatine."

"You...agreed to this? Willingly?"

"I...I'm one of the most well-known Jedi in the Galaxy. I - "

"Who says a Jedi has to do this?" Satine shrills, shooting to her bare feet. "Who says you have to fake your own _death?"_

"Satine…"

"Mom - "

"You could easily infiltrate the bounty hunters and - and-" Satine lets out a huff of frustration, and stalks to the window of her chambers. She wraps her arms tight around herself, staring out the window at Sundari. "The galaxy would be better off without Palpatine."

Korkie watches his father sigh heavily, not agreeing or disagreeing with the statement. He feels his eyebrows climb into his hair, though he continued to say nothing.

"Satine…" Obi-Wan stands stiffly - he was still feeling the affects of Kadavo - and goes to her, fingers clasping around her forearms. "Tina...look at me."

"You don't have to do this mission, Obi! You can get killed! Where would that leave Korkie - where would that leave Ahsoka - _Anakin?"_

Korkie glances away, pressing his lips together. He has always heard so much about Anakin, the Chosen One that was lucky to have Obi-Wan around _all the time _\- and what he has gathered, doesn't even appreciate it.

_Selfishness leads to the Dark Side._

_No, I'm not being selfish for wanting my father around more often. He has responsibilities that deprive him from being here._

Obi-Wan wipes the tears from her cheeks and presses his lips to her brow. "They will be fine - they are strong."

"I don't want to go to your funeral," Korkie mutters. He stares levelly at his father's surprised face, swallowing down the urge to cry while he stands, drawing his shoulders back. "I don't want to watch your body burn while everyone mourns."

_While everyone puts two and two together and figures out the truth. While Anakin grieves and believes the lie, because you will not tell him._

Obi-Wan and Satine glance at each other, then back at their son - who is leaving the room, not bothering to hear their answer.

He sighs, drawing his riddur close, feeling so suddenly _powerless_ and _old._

Satine draws her fingers through his hair, undoing his meticulous hairstyle. "Ben...what if I said the word...right now? What...what would happen?"

"You know I can't...not now." Obi-Wan closes his eyes at the sensation of her fingernails against his neck. _The war. Ahsoka. The Council. His men._

_Anakin._

He can't leave them, not now.

Satine sighs, drawing away and wiping away the last of her tears. She opens her mouth to say something, to change the subject -

Obi-Wan grasps her wrist, a silent plea to face him again.

"You don't need to - "

"After the war."

"What?"

"I'll leave - I'll resign. _After the war." _Obi-Wan grasps her shoulders, studying her baffled expression. "I should have done it years ago. The moment I learned you were pregnant."

"But Anakin - "

"He will leave the moment the Separatist raise a white flag of surrender. Probably to Naboo."

Satine hears herself laughing at the joke, smiling through her tears and throwing her arms around him.

"I'm a fool for keeping you away for so long."

"I shouldn't have let you, my dear."

* * *

_Ben: mission over. I'm coming to Coruscant._

_Tina: I'm still on planet after attending your funeral - I'll wait._

_Ben: I love you_

_Tina: I'll leave the lights on_

* * *

She stops in her Coruscanti kitchenette, intent on downing a pot of caf before the Senate meeting - and promptly stops at the threshold, studying the scene before her.

Obi-Wan stands at the kitchen counter, waiting for their respective drinks to steep and the toast to be ready. His arms are braced against the marble and he's studying a dimmed datapad, sleep-pants slung low on his hips. The rising sun of Coruscant is filtering through the window, revealing his muscled, mutilated back to her. The sight of his puckered scars and haphazard skin has always made her angry - but that anger, however, is drowned by the sight of the thin, red scratches down his back.

_Whoops._

"I know I'm handsome, Tina dear, but your staring is making me feel immodest."

She shakes her head, walking into the kitchenette and to the fridge. "I was admiring my handiwork."

"For a woman who abhors violence you sure love to leave wounds, my dear."

Satine smiles, placing the oranges she had pulled from the crisper and sidling over to him. She wraps around him, nosing his short-whiskered jaw before pressing a kiss to his pulse. "I'm just marking my territory," she whispers.

"Territory?" Obi-Wan murmurs, voice hoarse while she weathers his skin with her teeth.

"Mmm." She eases her way between him and the counter, nails lightly marking a path from his shoulders, over his chest, down his torso, before settling on the waistband of his pants.

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows, ignoring the toast when the pieces spring from the toaster. He moves closer, hands on her bare thighs when she shimmies onto the counter. "Didn't get enough fun last night my lady?"

"Hardly," she mumbles once she has kissed him, combing her fingers through his short hair. There are tears on her cheeks.

He smiles a bit sadly, pressing their lips together again, trying to pour every bit of apology and love into the kiss. Even though she had known about the Rako Hardeen plot, even though he had promised to leave the Order when the war was over...it didn't make up for the fact that she watched his body be lowered into the ground, had to sob and pretend to grieve while he ran around trying keep the Chancellor from being assassinated.

"Satine," he murmurs when she leans her head against his shoulder. "Tina?"

She pulls away, quizzically studying his sudden nervous face. It is _so _much easier to read his expressions without the beard. "Hmm?"

"You...before this incident...I spoke of leaving the Order?"

A sinking feeling fills her. It is happening. He is pushing her away, telling her that the Code was more important than her, than their _son. _That they should stop -

Obi-Wan presses something into her hands, bringing her back to the present.

Her eyes widen in shock.

"Open it," he murmurs, looking particularly pleased with himself.

"Obi-Wan…" Hands shaking, she opens the small velvet box, trying not to cry when two winking silver rings were revealed to her, nestled neatly in cloth. "How?..."

"An artisan on Nal Hutta," he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're not that expensive - this woman made wedding rings in exchange for stories - a custom on her planet - but if you don't like - "

Satine is ahead of him. Setting the box to the side, she takes his face in her hands and kisses him hard. "Shut _up,_ you wonderful idiot. Shut up."

"That's a yes, I take it? You'll marry me?"

"The moment the peace treaty is signed," she whispers, leaning their brows together, staring into his eyes.

"Maybe not the _moment…" _Obi-Wan grins when she gives him a playful shove on the shoulder, and presses his lips to the crown of her head. "I love you."

* * *

"Whore?" Satine cocks her head like she doesn't know the meaning of the word, earrings swinging and headdress glinting, blinking at the Senator.

Lott Dod swallows hard, like he just now remembering they are in the Chancellor's office, surrounded by Jedi and Senators and the Chancellor. "My lady - "

"Satine, Senator," Bail Organa starts cautiously, his voice easy and warm.

"Care to explain yourself?" Satine demands sweetly, a sharp smile working it way onto her face.

"I only meant - "

"You meant to shame me for being human? For having relationships that involve sex? For not being the Virgin Ice-Queen the Holo-net believes me to be?"

"You're not married - physical relations outside of marriage - "

"Funny how that rule only applies to women, Senator. Would it amuse you to know that any relation I have is entirely consenting? Or does that not matter to you?"

"Duchess Satine please - " Chancellor Palpatine begins, raising his wrinkled hands.

"Did I address you, Your Excellency?" Satine asks, glaring at the Chancellor and watching him scowl.

Senator Dod begins to rise from his couch, green fists clenched in fury, ignoring his flustered fellow senator. "You accuse me of - "

"Someone has to - who are you to care - who is anybody - that I share my bed with the Jedi General beside Master Yoda? Or did you want that pleasure for yourself." Satine gives the man a once over, disgust in her eyes. "Though I doubt you have ever been able to make a woman orgasm."

Obi-Wan has one of four options: sink low in his seat and avoid the stares of his fellow Jedi, stare blankly ahead and ignore the fact his face is red with embarrassment, punch the Senator in the face, or kiss the Duchess right there, in front of everyone.

He chooses the fifth option: rearrange his cloak over his front and ignore the calculated look of Mace Windu.

"Perhaps we should end today's session?" Chancellor Palpatine asks when no one speaks. "Resume tomorrow morning?"

"Gladly," Satine snarls, skirts flying about her while she turns on her heel and strode toward the doors. Her guards followed her meekly, the eyes of the party on their retreating backs.

The door opens and hisses shut.

"You should control that woman of yours, General Kenobi," Senator Dod mutters, turning his glare on the young Jedi Master.

Yoda folds his arms over his cane, exchanging a look with Mace Windu while everyone stands.

Obi-Wan smooths his robes, raising an eyebrow at the Neimoidian Senator. "Me? Control the Duchess? Oh my dear Lott Dod...how is that any fun?"


	16. Well Shit

Chapter Sixteen: Well Shit

* * *

"You explicitly went against orders - tried to intervene with internal affairs - and for what?! Facing a Sith Lord alone, leaving a ruler dead, a system in its _second civil war _in thirty - "

"Are you done?" Obi-Wan interrupts, glaring at the Master of the Order.

The Council is silent - all of them are very, God damn it - staring at him in shock.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi _doesn't go against orders.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_ doesn't talk back.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_ doesn't stand in the middle of the Council Chambers, reeking of ozone and sweat, dressed in Mando armor, still covered in the blood of his dead fiancée, wondering where the hell his son is, trying to grasp how his life had turned on its head.

He stares levelly at the Master of the Order, waiting for him to say something, feeling rage bubble inside him. There are tears in his eyes, falling down his cheeks and into his beard - he doesn't bother to hide them. Kriff it, let everyone know his attachment to Satine.

_It's not like they could stop it now._

"Our duty is to protect," Obi-Wan snarls. "Who are we, to ignore the needs of those who request our help?"

"The Republic cannot show favoritism," Ki-Ado begins before practically shrinking at the livid and disgusted expression Obi-Wan gives him.

Master Yoda pounds on his cane, and sighs heavily. "Sorry we are, for your loss. A great tragedy it is, to lose Mandalore."

_To lose New Mandalore, _Obi-Wan wants to spit, but he keeps that to himself.

"Suspended you are from active duty, you are, Kenobi. This Council, too - for four weeks."

Obi-Wan gives a small, sharp smile that's a little crazed. "You _do _realize I command a tenth of the army, correct? I cannot leave the line of duty entirely."

"Command from Coruscant, you can. Spend time in meditation, you should."

Inclining his head, Obi-Wan stares at the Grandmaster for a long, heavy moment before turning abruptly on his heel and walking out of the Council Chamber without a word.

* * *

"Has anyone mentioned you look like shit?"

Obi-Wan glances over, blue eyes bloodshot and face gaunt. He watches his commander straddle the stool beside him and flag down the bartender and ask for drink - a Sunburn maybe. He doesn't know - his world was a little fuzzy. "Beg pardon, Cody - what did you say?"

Cody folds his arms on the counter, glancing his General up and down. The man is in his Jedi robes - perfect, pristine, not a speck of lint on them - but he still smells faintly of gunpowder and ship fumes. Alcohol too - but that could have been because they were in a kriffing bar. "You look like shit," he repeats.

The bartender comes back, setting a platter of Arboite Twisters and fried roots on the counter. Cody dumps too many credits on the counter, smiling innocently at the raised eyebrow.

"I feel like it," Obi-Wan scoffs, taking one of the shots. His throat burns and his eyes waters while he swallows - because he was taking a shot of Arboite, not because he was thinking that Satine was dead, not because he could picture her ashen face, the blood dripping onto his fingers while she gasped out her final breath.

"General Skywalker mentioned you went to Mandalore."

"Yep." Obi-Wan takes a second shot from the platter - how many drinks did this make tonight? He has lost count - he wants it gone, all the pain gone. _It should have been me, it should have been me, standing there, taking the Dark Saber._

Cody shakes his head, wondering why the kriff he had to be the one to deal with this. But he knows why.

General Skywalker had been unable to get a word out of Kenobi all week.

Generals Vos and Eerin had tried, only to get a grunt in reply.

Commander Tano had been the closest to wrangling something out of him - Kenobi had embraced her warmly, muttering "Glad _you're _safe," before walking away, towards the Council chambers.

"He's still on planet."

"Hmm?" Cody takes the roots - he can't identify what plant it's from - and pops one in his mouth.

"Who's still on planet?"

"Korkie."

Cody raises an eyebrow, not quite understanding. He had met the prince a few times - a good kid.

Maybe a little reckless, but a good…

_Oh. _Cody thinks, picturing the prince while he studies the General. Ginger hair, narrow build, blue eyes, a quick wit. Could probably flirt with a brick. _Oh._

"I don't know where he is." General Kenobi's voice cracks. "I don't know if he's alive."

"I'm sorry, General," Cody mutters, because what else is he supposed to say? He understands the loss of a brother, but a lover? A child? "Your son is a smart kid - he'll figure it out."

He will know none of that. Ever.

He is almost thankful he is a clone, made to know no greater love.

"I should have stayed." Obi-Wan downs the next shot and buries his head in his hands. "I should have stayed."

* * *

Anakin stares at the padawan braid in his hand, his emotions closed to everyone - it is impossible to feel what he is feeling...but Obi-Wan knows what his former padawan is feeling...cause he's feeling the same thing. Grief, hopelessness, fear, anger...all the emotions a good Jedi should not be feeling.

He is after Ahsoka before the doors fully close, running after the young woman they had raised these past few years.

Obi-Wan takes half-a-step forward, ready to move forward, catch up to Anakin and Ahsoka and make this all right.

_Because this isn't happening._

_This can't be happening._

_I can't lose her too._

A clawed hand closes around his shoulder, digging through his tunics, yanking him back.

Obi-Wan levels a glare at him, itching to curl his hand into a fist and punch _something._

Plo shakes his head, a silent gesture to let Anakin deal with it. "We cannot interfere...it is not our place."

"What good is our place when innocent people are betrayed and wounded and die?" Obi-Wan spits before he can stop himself. "When people lose hope in a system designed to make them fail?"

Mace raises his eyebrows. "Speaking from recent experience, Master Kenobi?"

This time Plo holds him back in restraint.

"This meeting is dismissed," Mace murmurs sharply. "I expect all of you to _behave _tomorrow morning."

Obi-Wan shrugs out of the Kel Dor's grip and walks - stalks, really - to the doors. He has no time for this.

* * *

"What took you so long to find a padawan, Master Biblia?"

"If my padawan wasn't here I would tell you to fuck yourself."

Caleb is unable to help himself - his mouth hangs open in shock. He has _never _heard his master speak so horribly - and to _Obi-Wan Kenobi _of all people.

But surprisingly, Master Kenobi chuckles while they walk. "Well you were in coma."

"Mmm," she folds her arms over her chest. "Any reason _you _don't have a second padawan?"

"Anakin was enough for me - maybe someday, but not right now. Not in the middle of this wretched war."

"You sure that's the only reason?" Master Biblia asks cryptically. "I mean, Obi-Wan - the _rumors _I have heard."

Master Kenobi gestures to a window, and they stride to it. He watches out it for a moment before shrugging. "Haven't there _always been _rumors about me, Depa?"

"That may be true, but these - "

"Are my business and mine alone, Master." Master Kenobi manages a smile, glancing out the window one more time before bowing and walking away. His cloak billows out after him, and for the briefest of moments, his stature appears defeated.

* * *

Once he has dodged the med-bay and a very frustrated commander, Obi-Wan walks down the halls of the ship, trying to find his padawan.

_Former padawan. _He has to keep remembering that precious fact.

"Fives!" He shouts, spotting the ARC trooper about to turn the corner.

"General Kenobi." Fives gives him a tired smile when they meet in the middle, looking a little unsteady on his feet. "What can I do for you?"

"Head to medical once you tell me where General Skywalker is," Obi-Wan murmurs, looking the clone up and down. "That's an order. I don't want to lose any more men."

Fives shakes his head, then grimaces and puts his hand to his neck. "General Skywalker's in his office - he's been there for hours."

"Anakin has an study?" Obi-Wan asks rather dumbly.

It seemed silly, that he has never been to Anakin's study. Every commanding general had one in their legions respective flaships - often connected to their quarters or within ten meters from their commanding officers offices.

Obi-Wan often spends voyages holed away in his own study, filing far too much flismiwork and completing holo-transmissions.

But then again - he commands a tenth of the Republic's Clone Army.

Anakin commands a legion.

_That's a vast difference,_ Obi-Wan thought while he walks to the study.

Anakin is alone, playing some gods-awful opera music while he reads a datapad. There is a pile of flismiwork work on either side of him and spilling onto a spare chair, and half-finished projects and bits of wires stuck in odd-places around the surfaces. A caf-machine is propped on the viewport, with a few unwashed mugs beside it.

Obi-Wan knocks on the threshold. "Anakin?"

Anakin glances up, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "Master - you're back."

"That I am - may I come in?"

"If you can find a spot to sit," Anakin jokes while he surveys the mess. "Or it might be best if you stand."

Obi-Wan cracks a smile, stepping into the study. It feels odd, to think that his high-strung padawan had, well, actual responsibilities outside of training -

_Wait_.

_Ahsoka's not in the Order anymore._

He glances around the room, wondering how often it was actually occupied. His eye catches on a holo - a still-holo of Padme and Ahsoka, laughing and unawares of the camera.

"Galaxy to Obi-Wan?"

"Mmm? What?"

Anakin smirks. "You okay, old man? Need a nap?"

"I'm a bit tired," Obi-Wan admits, thinking of the sleepless nights he has spent thinking of _what if's? _Pushing _those _thoughts out of his head, he holds up the flimsi in his hand. "Quinlan needed some help before his next mission - Tatooine I believe? He wanted to know if you could help him with some Huttese translations."


	17. Revenge of the Sith

Chapter Seventeen: Revenge of the Sith

* * *

Anakin sighs, his gaze never staying in one place while he spoke. The light of the setting sun is behind him, casting a halo around his hair and shrouding his face in shadows. "Sometimes I wonder what's happening to the Jedi Order. I think this war is destroying the principles of the Republic."

Padmé stares at him, trying to pluck out what exactly he means. Thoughts of Ahsoka are fresh in his mind, and she half-wonders if perhaps seeing her again on Mandalore had stirred up feelings of...resentment? Displeasure? with the Order. The more cynical part of her mind speaks. "Have you ever considered that maybe we're on the wrong side?"

"What do you mean?"

She glances away from his intense stare for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. "What if the democracy we thought we were serving no longer exists? And the Republic has become the very evil we've been fighting to destroy?"

"I...don't believe that...and you're sounding like a Separatist."

"This war...represents a failure to _listen." _Padmé leaned forward, grasping his hand. "Now you're closer to the Chancellor than anyone - _please, _ask him to stop the fighting and let diplomacy resume."

* * *

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Padmé steps away, her voluminous robes making her gait slow. Her voice was even, her spine straight while she walked to the sofa. "Yesterday."

Obi-Wan follows, picking his way down the steps. "Do you know where he is?"

"No."

"Padmé." _When did I drop her formal title? _"I need your help. He's in grave danger."

"From the Sith?" She spits, turning around, eyes narrowed..

He does his best not to grimace, staring into her eyes. "From himself….Padmé." He puts a hand on her shoulder "...Anakin has turned to the Dark Side."

"You're wrong." Padmé flinches away from him, arms about to wrap around her swollen stomach, and abruptly stops. "How could you _say that?"_

Obi-Wan had not been expecting the question. Well, maybe he had been. It takes all his willpower to keep his voice from cracking - but he doesn't have the will to look her in the eye, and steps past her, looking at the traffic of Coruscant "I have seen it...in a security hologram...of him...killing younglings."

_I couldn't save those kids...I don't know if Korkie is alive...the least I can do is save Anakin's child…_

"Not Anakin...he couldn't."

He swallows back the bile in his throat, turning around, not bothering to hide the glassy sheen in his eyes. "He was deceived by a lie - we all were. It appears that the Chancellor is behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the Sith Lord we've been looking for. After the death of Count Dooku Anakin became his new apprentice."

Padmé's breathing is rapid. She turns away, not wanting to process the news, wanting to turn back time, to even five, six, seven months, a year, just to have her husband back, before Ahsoka left the Order, before Satine died, before so many of her friends died, before the flames of war were fanned even higher. "I don't believe you."

She sits on the sofa, feeling her child move within her, her voice a whisper. "I _can't."_

Obi-Wan sits down beside her, wanting to bring her comfort he can not provide. "Padmé...I _must _find him."

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

"He...has become a very great threat."

"I can't." She glances down, at her stomach, taking in a shaking breath.

Obi-Wan presses his lips together, patting her knee when he stands. He walks to the windows, feeling the weight of the Galaxy on his shoulders. "Anakin is the father, isn't he?"

She glances at him, then down at her herself, looking so utterly defeated.

He swallows, thinking how horrible it all is, that his dear brother will never get a chance to even look upon the child.

_How did even I manage to have such a joy?_

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, turning away, towards the platform and his ship.

* * *

"Master Kenobi…" Yoda spins around in his chair, holding out a hand to keep the Obi-Wan from following the Viceroy further into the ship. "Wait a moment."

Obi-Wan hesitates, and finally sighs, taking a seat once again. His joints aches from the recent duel with Anakin...he only prays that his brother's end was quick.

Yoda, his old eyes sad, tries to give a small smile. "In your solitude, on Tatooine, training, I have for you."

"Training?" Obi-Wan murmurs, hand pressing against his aching knee.

"An old friend has learned the path to immortality." Yoda folds his hands together. "One who has returned from the Netherworld of the Force...your old master."

"_Qui-Gon."_

"How to commune with him, I will teach you."

"Now? Do...we have time, Master Yoda?"

Yoda gives a small smile. "Rest, you should, for a moment young Kenobi...but first…" He digs around in his tunics, muttering to himself before producing a small bag. "Yours, I believe. Burrowed them some time ago, I did, by your master' wish. Waiting for the right time, I was."

Obi-Wan frowns, taking the small canvas bag. He presses his lips together, shaking the rings into his palm. He can feel traces of the Force on it, remnants of a chaotic, passionate love. It has been months since he had held these, months since he proposed and they decided to keep the rings in his Temple apartment, where they would be safe.

Months since she died, leaving him effectively widowed and alone in this terrifying new Galaxy.

_At least she was spared the pain of these new trials._

"Married, you planned to be, young Kenobi?"

Well...there is no point in denying it now.

"When the war was finished...I would have left for Mandalore...married the Duchess Kryze…"

"Be the father you wished to be for young Korkie's siblings?"

He blinks back tears, remembering the late-night conversations they had begun to have, the half-promises made under the covers, between hurried movements and desperate kisses. "We...wanted another baby... Qui-Gon, if it was a boy...Jinn, if it was a girl…"

* * *

"I thought I would find you here."

Obi-Wan gives a harsh chuckle, not raising his eyes to acknowledge the Viceroy. He keeps his arms around Leia, thankful she had stopped fussing, trying to ignore the ache in his heart.

_Why didn't I speak sooner? Volunteer to take them both? Live on Mandalore among Bo-Katan's people, where thousands of Mandalorians would have masked their signatures?_

Bail sits on the cold metal ground beside him, his back leaning against the sterile bed. "Was she fussing?"

"You won't sleep for the next few years."

"You speak like you've raised children before."

Obi-Wan cracks a small smile and doesn't answer.

"We're nearly to Alderaan. We can offer you sanctuary, if you still - "

"I am a wanted man - I will not put your people in danger, Bail." Obi-Wan brushes a finger over Leia's cheek and sighs. "Are you certain your wife will not wish for a second child?"

"I...Alderaan is a very matriarchal society. To bring one child is questionable enough...to bring two? Rumors of infidelity would certainly swirl even more...a girl would be loved by my people, no matter her true parentage."

Obi-Wan snorts, finally glancing at his old friend. "Bail Organa - having an affair? Who would think such a thing?"

"My sister-in-law."

"Ah yes - the only person that…" He shook his head, and turned his attention to Leia. "I do wish life…"

"Wasn't the will of the Force?"

"Something like that."

* * *

Obi-Wan has always known they were together. It was blatantly obvious that they were in love - he didn't understand why no one seemed to notice the longing looks or accidental brushes of hands. He surely didn't understand why no one questioned the sounds coming from the Senator's rooms whenever they were on a mission deep in space.

But then again, he was Anakin's master for years before the young man had been knighted. He knew Anakin like an open book - or he thought he did.

The war had changed everyone, even the Jedi. It had made them into generals and soldiers, not peacekeepers of the galaxy. They were gone for weeks and months at a time, fighting battles they didn't know the outcome of. Nights were spent on the hard, germ infested ground, and they often had only rations to eat day after day.

"_A peacekeeper belongs on the front lines of conflict, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do his job."_

"_The work of a peacekeeper is to make sure that conflict does not arise."_

"_It's a noble description, not a realistic one."_

"_Is it reality what makes a Jedi abandon his ideals? Or is it simply a response to political convenience?"_

It was little wonder the Chosen One turned to the Dark Side, now that he thought about it. A galactic war was too much stress and responsibility for a twenty-something year old general.

_Add in a secret family and wife, and you have an accident waiting to happen,_ Obi-Wan thinks bitterly. He took his head out of his hands to stare at the white wall before him, sighing heavily.

_But by that logic...why did I never turn?_

There was an empty glass of bourbon by his elbow, but the need to drown his sorrows had faded to a dull throb.

"_Remember my dear Obi-Wan...I've loved you always. I always will."_

He focuses on the lilting voice of Bail Organa coming down the hall. It was easier to listen to them than the swirling memories and voices in his head.

"Drink won't help you, old friend." Bail slides into a seat, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He is a young man, but the war has taken a toll on him...and the past few hours haven't been exactly kind either.

Obi-Wan ignores the remark. "Who were you talking too?"

The Viceroy of Alderaan raises his eyebrows. "A Jedi can't tell?"

"Alcohol has dulled my senses."

"One of the crewman. He was verifying our jump to hyperspace."

Obi-Wan leans back in his seat, stroking his beard and trying to keep up his usual pretense. He is going to say something about Naboo, about contacting the Senator's family and revealing the twins, the marriage, the rise of the Empire…

He figures they knew about one of those.

"I knew," he hears himself say softly.

Bail had been pouring himself a glass of bourbon, and pauses a moment. "Pardon?"

"I knew. About Anakin and Padmé. From the very beginning."

"And you never informed the Jedi Council."

Obi-Wan shrugs, holding out his glass for the Viceroy to fill. He watched the brown liquid splash, pressing his lips together a moment. "Anakin's business was his own. He was an emotional person, yes, but a very private one. I figured if he wished to tell me, he would."

"Even his padawan didn't know? That seems unlikely. She and the Senator were very close, if I recall. Seems like something would appear amiss to her, if Anakin was around all the time."

Obi-Wan's takes sip of the drink to avoid the thought of the young Togruta woman. Where was she? On Mandalore, her body being trampled by dozens of clone troopers? Or did Rex - her best friend, her number one - save her? "Ahsoka was - is - a very articulate, yes, but she lacks common sense at times. She was young during the Clone Wars...much too young for my tastes. She had never seen or felt love before. It would have been hard for her to distinguish the feelings between them."

"You're speaking from experience, old friend?"

Obi-Wan smiles grimly, thinking of his past lovers. Did it really matter now? They were dead anyways. He raised his glass to Bail Organa, quirking an eyebrow. "To better days."

Bail's face falls into that mask the Jedi master had come to despise so much in all his dealings with politicians. "To better days."


	18. Secrets Never Stay Hidden

Chapter Eighteen: Secrets Never Stay Hidden

* * *

"Beru...we can't afford it. I need his help in the fields."

Beru is not the type of woman to be angry - but right now, at this moment, she is starting to be. "In the off-season, Owen. Let him. We can scrape together the money."

"You don't think I want to give Luke a formal education?"

"With the way you've been avoiding the subject I fear you don't even want that!"

Owen lets out a gusty sigh, pacing away from her in their small, dark Tatooine bedroom, trying to keep his frustration under control. His 12-year-old nephew could sense stuff like that, after all. Always worring about other people. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he mutters, "We can teach him all he needs to learn here, sweetheart. He has a gift with engineering and mechanics - it's like nothing I've ever seen before."

"What good will a gift be out in the Galaxy? He loves reading and arithmetic...I will be the first to admit I can't answer all of his questions."

"You _want _Luke to leave Tatooine?"

Beru reaches forward, gently taking his wrinkled hand and tugging him back to the bed where she sits. "We both know Luke shares his father's wanderlust. We can spare a few credits if it means he'll be more prepared out in the Galaxy."

Owen wraps his hands over hers, knowing he's fighting a losing battle. He glances at her, just now realizing how much they have aged in the last decade or so. "I'll pay for one day of tutoring a week - though it's coming out of his allowance - and I pick the tutor - I'm not having that Kenobi teach him anything."

* * *

Ahsoka comes to base at night, hearing that a Mandalorian ship had been gunned down in their airspace and several crew members had been salvaged from the reck. Once she had spoken to Mon Mothma, she made her way to the med bay, curious if she could find any old friends.

_Unlikely, _she thinks grimly, but nevertheless she goes and speaks to a few people whom were awake. Many knew who she was, and she welcomed the small talk. It was a nice distraction from the hopelessness and death that always surrounded the Resistance fighters.

"Ahsoka? Ahsoka Tano?"

Ahsoka turns around at the entrance of the med bay, confusion on her face for a moment. She doesn't recognize the young man on the cot, not until a probe in the Force reveals his identity. "Korkie?!"

She certainly hadn't expected someone from her youth to be grinning at her on an Rebel Alliance cot, leg wrapped up in bandages.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, crossing the room and bending down to embrace him. "I thought you were on Mandalore leading the Kryze clan."

Korkie grins at her in the dim light, his blue eyes twinkling in a way that always reminded her of a certain Master from Stew-Jon. "I should be. My aunt Bo had me fly some med supplies to the Resistance. We may or may not have been gunned down by Imperial Forces while leaving airspace."

"You were part of that crew?" Ahsoka asks with a small chuckle. She sits on the bed, noticing a hand-held holoprojector on the nightstand.

"Flying's for droids," Korkie huffs, rubbing at the coppery beard on his chin.

_Master Kenobi used to say that, _Ahsoka thinks, glancing at the holoprojector again and realizing whom the people were. "What happened to your leg?"

"Chemical burns and a nasty break in my femur. They applied some bacta and bone-knitters, but it might be into the tank tomorrow."

They chat for awhile, trying to catch up on twenty years of events. Neither of them bring out the last time they saw each other, on the Siege of Mandalore. He speaks of his adventures in the Outer Rim, the progress Bo-Katan has made on Mandalore, how the pacifist and the warrior are learning to blend together.

She speaks some of her adventures, but many of them are painful, involving long-dead friends or...less savory events. She doesn't really speak of her continuing hunt for remaining Jedi, or her liaisons with Hondo and Maz. Most is better left unsaid, and Korkie does not pry.

"Korkie," she asks when the conversation has dwindles down to nothing. "Might I ask whose picture that is?"

Korkie smiles, reaching out a hand. The holoprojector flies into it - she's not sure if she's surprised or not - and refocuses the picture. "My parents. Caught them curled up in the Sundari Palace Library one time - I wanted to print onto a canvas before..."

Ahsoka swallows hard, looking at a very familiar ginger-haired Jedi and Mandalorian Duchess reading a datapad, a blanket covering them. "How - when - "

"They kept my parentage pretty quiet. Never did marry. My full name is Klaudius Kryze-Kenobi."

"They sure loved alliteration."

She feels a flash of envy and resentment. Her masters had broken the Code while preaching it. _But the Code doesn't matter anymore. Look at Hera._ But she realizes she's not angry at Obi-Wan or Anakin - she is jealous, because all she has of her masters are formal holo pictures.

"Can I... Can I have a copy?"

"Sure. Don't have the same comlink frequency by any chance?"

Ahsoka has to laugh. "Nope."

* * *

"The Mon-Calamarian's need humanitarian aid, not troops! Our medics can defend themselves - we do not need troops there when we are spread so thin across the galaxy!"

Bail Organa silently agrees with Prince Korkie, though he folds his arms over his chest and says nothing. Aid they can afford to spare - troops they cannot.

Admiral Nantz rolls his eyes, leaning his hands on the table and sneering. "Why should I be surprised that a Kryze does not want to send troops?"

"Kryze-Kenobi, sir. I suggest you get it right if you wish to insult me."

The room freezes. Everyone from the days of the Old Republic knows those names, and several of the newer ones viewed them as ideals. They take in the narrow build, the blazing fury in the eyes, the bleached hair and ginger beard, the unmistakable biting wit.

_That explains so much, _Bail muses, studying the eerily calm young man. He remembered how fond his Jedi friend was of Korkie, how much he loved to bicker with Duchess Satine, how aggressively he fought to be present at the Siege of Mandalore.

He wonders what Obi-Wan thinks of Korkie, if he's proud of the young man.

The silence of the briefing room is broken by Captain Rex standing. He stares at Korkie for a long, hard minute before walking out of the room. They hear footsteps, then the sound of a wall being punched.

"Well," Mon Mothma murmurs. "All in favor of sending aid and no troops to Mon Calamari?"

* * *

It's late on Yavin IV, even by Bail Organa's standards. He walks through the base towards his quarters, rubbing at the crink in his neck and reading a datapad. The fight against the Empire...well, it wasn't going _well, _but it wasn't too bad either.

The Empire is growing in strength, losing it's mask that it had kept for the past decade.

_The mask that everyone had been fooled by._

_The one he had worked beside, who destroyed the Jedi and his greatest Senate allies._

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts, and glances up.

A young man in Mandalorian armor is leaning opposite of the chambers, reading a paper novel. He glances up at the footsteps, familiar blue eyes twinkling and a grin peeking out from beneath his neat ginger beard.

"Viceroy Organa."

"Prince Kenobi."

Bail stands there, in the middle of the kriffing hallway, staring at youth he now knew was his friends' _son._

_Goddesses, if I find out Yoda has a daughter I'm going into exile on Hoth._

He hits the save button on his datapad, and while clicking it off says, "How did you come across a paper novel?"

"I was raised to have fine tastes."

"Evidently."

Prince Klaudius - Korkie? Prince Kryze? Clan leader Kryze? Obnoxious, Force Sensitive, headache inducing, flirting, pain-in-the-Rebellion's-ass - smirks while he tucks the paperback somewhere beneath the vicinity of his large Jedi robe. "My parents were rather interesting."

"That's certainly one word for it. What would your father say? Civilized?"

"Would?" The Mandalorian prince asks, his eyebrows ticking up. "Interesting connotation for someone who's alive and well."

Bail sighs, because he should have known this would happen. "Care to continue this conversation in my chambers, Your Highness?"

"That would probably be wise, Viceroy."

Bail can't help but smile while he palms the door open. "I believe formalities the need for formalities between us...no longer exists?"

"Perhaps. But old habits are hard to break."

It's not often Bail feels self-conscious, but he does while stepping into the small chambers. It's not much to look at - a standard issue bed, a sterile white desk and chair, a minuscule closet for belongings, and if one is lucky, a sani and sink. The only personalization is a Alderaanian tapestry hung above the desk, and a holo of Leia on one of the ledge.

"Prime chambers," Korkie remarks while he glances around.

He sets the datapad on the desk. "You have your father's wit - you can sit anywhere."

"His flair for dramatics too, my mother always said." Korkie sits on the bed.

"Happen to share his fondness for drink too?" Bail asks, striding to the closet and pulling out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

Korkie gives a hard snort, watching the bourbon splash into the glass. "My parents were alcoholics - of course I'd love a drink."

"Your...Duchess Kryze too?" That sort of surprises him. Mandalorians were not known to be strong drinkers, neither were they known to have children out of wedlock. Satine, evidently, had not cared much for either of those stereotypes.

"The only time she was sober was when she was pregnant," Korkie murmurs, taking the glass and sniffing it.

Bail sits at the desk chair, gripping the glass and knowing he's heading into catious territory. It brings some bad memories, but he pushes them aside for the questions that have been burning in his mind ever since Korkie revealed his parentage. "I have to ask, Your Highness."

"No, you cannot have my lightsaber."

Bail took a sip of the liquid courage. "You are your parents child - but that was not my question."

"Oh?"

"Do you have any siblings we should know about? People that need protection from the Empire?"

The prince gives a small, sad laugh, leaning his elbows against his knees and holding the glass loosely. "Well...not exactly."

Bail recognizes that look - he had seen it to many times on himself. _Himself and Breha._ "Oh...forgive me, Korkie, I didn't mean to - "

"It's okay, Bail...it's okay." Korkie shrugs, staring at the floor for a moment. "My parents...my mother did have a second child...she lost it...I never did know if it was my dad's or not. It probably was."

"How old were you?" Bail asks softly, wondering if he's the first person to ever hear of this story. Probably. His friends were remarkable private people. _Obviously._

"Three, four? I remember being excited my father was on Sundari without warning...I didn't know about my sibling until I was much older - 14 or 15." Korkie shook his head. "Turns out Dad flew in mid-mission to watch me and be with my mother. It nearly cost him his seat on the Council."

Bail shakes his head, taking a drink slowly. The things Obi-Wan got up too...it is amazing people thought the Jedi - keyword _thought_ \- were stoic entities free of any sin.

Obi-Wan...risking his beloved Council seat to into Sundari…it simply showed how much the Jedi were hypocrites, preaching about the dangers of attachment while committing a deed that put their loved ones above the Code.

Or..._trying _to put the Code above their loved ones.

"I think it was Dad's…" Korkie whispers. "It kind of tore them apart until Mom was accused of siding with the Separatists during the war."

"I remember. I don't think anyone really realized how bad the war has gotten until _Mandalore _was dragged in."

Korkie smirks faintly and drains the glass. "I still saw Dad...just him and Mom...never have quite known if they were ever together - physically, I mean - during that decade. Never wanted to ask, and now..." He gives a small shake of his head. "Look at me - I apologise, Bail, I forgot-"

Bail forces a small smile. "No need to apologise, Korkie. It's...hard listening, yes...but knowing my friend's son is loved makes his absence - "

Korkie gave a hard snort. "Really Bail?"

"How did you find out?"

Korkie waves the question away. "Oh yeah - I know. My father's is the most dramatic person in existence - and it seems he rubbed off on you."

"I hope you're not angry at us."

"Angry? Maybe a bit upset but...my father always had his secrets. It's hard to imagine Obi-Wan Kenobi without one."


	19. Like Father Like Son

Chapter Nineteen: Like Father, Like Son

* * *

"Darling," Roan mutters, sounding a bit amused while he walked into the office.

"What?" Ferus snaps, not glancing from the documents spread out before him. Despite being a founding member of the Rebel Alliance that even five years later was after the birth of the Empire still in its fledgling stages, a person who housed refugee Jedi - he is still a businessman. This particular job was tricky, sent by one if the Fulcrum agents.

"Ferus."

"I need to look at you?"

Roan sighs, putting a hand over the datapad his husband was reading. "Any reason why a Kenobi is in our waiting area?"

"A Kenobi…" Ferus raised his head when a footsteps sounded on the floorboards, and a man perhaps a little younger than them leans against the molding. So maybe - between the ages twenty and twenty-five.

"Ferus Olin," the newcomer greeted pleasantly. _Black and red Mando armor. Ginger hair and neat beard. Brown Jedi cloak. Laugh lines around his eyes. Lightsaber on his belt. _"I've heard about - "

"Are you Prince Kryze?" Ferus barks out, rising from his desk chair, one hand twitching to his lightsaber stored in his desk drawer. "I don't deal with Death Watch."

"Oh no need to reach for the lightsaber in the drawer - and ouch, Death Watch?" _Strong Kalevala accent and hints of a Coruscanti lilt to his words. _"You should be ashamed of yourself, insulting royalty."

Ferus inclines his head, well aware that his husband had shifted closer to him. He had heard rumors of this man before them - a pain-in-the-Rebellion's-ass, a friend of Bail Organa and Ahsoka Tano. Who did his best to real havoc on the Empire and keep his people safe. Even Obi-Wan Kenobi has mentioned him once, with a fond smile and a shake of his head...and it is clear to see where exactly the prince's parentage lies.

"What do you want, Kryze?"

"Kryze-Kenobi - call me Korkie, if it makes it easier. Ben if you need to refer to me outside of your lovely establishment." Prince Kryze gives a small shrug. "I do not intend to use your services as a slicer - though your firm would be nice - do you work freelance jobs by any chance, or just official contract?"

Ferus can't help it - his head rears back a bit in surprise, and he stares, unable - or perhaps not willing - to process the new information. _The rumors were true...my god, the rumors about Master Kenobi and Duchess Satine were true…_

But years of being a Jedi...then a business man, then a commanding officer in the Clone Army...then whatever the hell he is now - has taught him to school his face into one of neutrality. Head cocking, he shares a glance with his husband, and then mutters, "What sort of services do you need?"

"For a former Jedi you're horrible at not broadcasting your emotions - "

"_Excuse me?"_

"Must be a side-effect of running around the likes of Siri Tachi - "

"You come into my firm only to insult my - "

"Bail Organa told me that Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive." Korkie - though feeling horrible for insulting the man - feels a bit of pride when he watches Ferus Olin splutter and try to recover himself and keep his thoughts entirely unguarded. He smirks a little, thanking his upbringing for his ability manipulate people into telling the truth - oh, and the Force. That definitely helps.

Ferus - finally gathering his bearings - leans his weight on the desk and stares down the young man. "I have no idea what you're talking - "

"For a politician Bail Organa is a surprising lightweight. Amazing what you can get out of him with only a few beers - oh, and what you can learn from rumors and hacking some - ah - Rebellion files." Korkie taps his fingers against his elbows, knowing he's getting close to the truth. "Like how Bail Organa has a Jedi contact? That fled the Empire at the very beginning? Who may or may not be helping various Jedi fugitives? Maybe...somehow connected a Fulcrum agent? Obviously not Ahsoka Tano - to risky. But perhaps - oh - Ferus Olin, who is one of the Lost Twenty, a veteran of the Clone Wars, the goddamn apprentice of Siri Tachi, a lover of my father's?"

A pregnant silence fills the air, punctuated only by the gentle sounds of Bellassa outside.

"What do you want?" Roan asks, surprising them all. He ignores his husband's surprise, for he's genuinely intrigued by this man.

Korkie smiles, for he knows he'll get his answer. "Three questions. Number one: what system, planet, and region does my father live on? Number two: what is his frequency code? Number three: how often does he change it?"

* * *

There's little to do on Tatooine when the chores have been done and the sun goes down. The textile machine has broken once again, and instead of trying to fix it, he works on pulling the needle out. His tunic has another tear in it, and he'd rather sew it by hand.

He finally succeeds, and settles down with a cup of tea when his comlink chirps. He frowns, wondering who it could possibly be.

There's no message and no frequency attached - only pictures.

Tears fall down his cheeks while he studies each one. Korkie's birthdays until he was sixteen. Pictures of the three of them. Pictures taken from tabloids. One of Ahsoka and Anakin laughing. Several of Satine and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even a picture of his Jedi friends, Quinlan and Bant and Siri and Garen and Obi-Wan, their padawans grinning at the camera while the adults share a drink.

He sighs, heading to the bedroom and pulling out a worn wooden box. Beside it are journals and tools, instructions on Jedi teachings and lightsaber techniques.

_For Luke._

But this is for him, and he copies the pictures from the comlink to a holoprojector. Beside the projector is a small woven bag, and he knows it will only bring him pain to open it.

But he does, shaking out the contents in his grizzled hand.

Two rings, shining even in the dim light. The word, Cyar'ika Riddur are etched into each ring. There's a lock of hair too, and the lightsaber of a young man that was terrorizing the Galaxy.

Obi-Wan sighs, and closes the lid on the past.

His tea is getting cold.

* * *

"That's a nice looking ship," the docking attendant sneers while he walks over the Mandalorian dressed in black armor. "Shame if someone stole it."

"I have a landing permit. G1-M4-C Dunelizard Fighter," Korkie mutters, giving one last tug to the restraining bolts on his shuttle. He smirks when at the unmasked stormtrooper checks his datapad and scowls. Standing, he draws his gray cloak closer to his body, were he could more easily conceal his lightsaber.

"Klaudius Benjamin?" The stormtrooper glances at the suit of black and red armor Korkie is wearing. "That's a pretentious name for a Mandalorian."

"My father was Coruscanti - Stew-Jonian, by birth."

"Upper-level?"

"For most of his life."

The stormtrooper snorts, giving the ship an appreciative look. "That explains the ship - and your pale ass too."

"Mmm. I trust a man as pleasant as yourself will not dare to try and gamble my ship away?"

"I don't like the looks of you, kid. You're hiding something."

"Only my pale ass under my armor - I'm only here for some ship parts. I should be gone in a few days."

"At Mos Eisley? Good luck."

Korkie smirks, swiping up his helmet from the ground. "Pleasure doing business with you, sir."

He stays moving through the hangar, feeling the stormtrooper's eyes on his back the entire time.

He keeps glancing at the ships, and smirks when he catches sight of a Corellian Engineering Corporation YT-1300 Freighter.

"Two Accarrgm and a plate of today's special, please."

Han glances over at the voice, surprised to see a Mandalorian has taken a seat a few down from him. "I wouldn't drink the Accarrgm if I were you."

The Mandalorian takes off his helmet, revealing remarkably neat ginger hair and a close-shaven beard. He gives a small grin, one eyebrow quirking "Really? How come?"

"It's pretty potent."

"Oh I'll take my chances." The Mandalorian taps his fingers against his armor, glancing towards the entrance of the bar. He shakes his head, adjusting the cloak around his shoulders.

"Where'd you get the 'saber?" Han mutters, gesturing vaguely downwards.

The Mandalorian smirks, glancing down at the lightsaber hanging from his belt. "Oh... around."

"You selling it?"

"You couldn't afford the price, smuggler."

"I might surprise you. It's dangerous, having such a valuable weapon on you in these parts."

There is a Force presence behind Korkie, a note of amusement im the speaker's Coruscanti accent. "Foolish to carry a weapon and not know how to use it."

Korkie smiles, turning away from the smuggler and witnessing the old man before him. White beard, gray skin, loose robes, haunted gaze in his once vibrant blue eyes meets his gaze. "Hey Dad."

Obi-Wan opens his arms to receive a bone-crunching hug. He holds on for what seems like eternity, wondering where the time went, how he is embracing a man and not a giggling toddler. "I like the beard."

"I like the bald spot - and the wrinkles!"

Korkie exclaimed, pulling back and grinning.

"Can't exactly keep up with my facial regime on this dismal planet - the markets don't even carry my kelp shampoo!"

Korkie laughs, picking up his helmet off the countertop.

"Shall we find a booth?" Obi-Wan asks, catching the helmet his son tosses him.

"Lead the way." Korkie swoops up the order the waiter had just brought, drops a few more credits than necessary, winks at the smuggler, and follows his father through the crowd.

"Pleasant planet you chose for exile, Pops," Korkie chirps, sliding into the booth. He watches a bar fight break out and grins. "Really charming - reminds me a bit of Dex's."

Obi-Wan gives him an unimpressed look, and tugs the plate of Galoomp legs forward. They talk about this and that for some time, telling stories and trying to catch up on five years of life. The crowd ebbs and flows around them, the band never ceasing.

Eventually, Obi-Wan murmurs, "Those holographs were nice - thank you. Though I don't understand how you found me _and_ obtained my frequency - I just changed it again."

"Of course. Bail Organa...remarkable politician...but a surprising lightweight," Korkie shrugs. "You'd think he'd be able to tolerate some alcohol. He was friends with you, after all - that Ferus Olin was a help too."

"Your mother would be proud of you - using alcohol to sway someone's inhibitions. Politics at it's finest."

Korkie grimaces, taking a too large gulp of Accarrgm to avoid answering right away. "Would she? I'm wearing Mandalorian armor - the armor _you _were wearing when she died."

"She had nothing against protecting one's self."

"Even carrying a lightsaber?"

Obi-Wan stops eating to look his son in the eye. "Korkie...we raised you in the hopes you would grow up in a peaceful galaxy. Evidently...we were wrong...but she would not grudge you for taking up arms and defending your people."

Korkie stares at the stains and sand on the table, trying not to let his feelings overwhelm him. "Dad...had Mom lived - "

"Korkie - "

"Would she be here, on Tatooine? With you and Luke? Would she be in the Rebellion, aiding the humanitarian efforts? Or would this whole mess have been avoided, and you could have resigned like you wanted to, when the war was over?"

Obi-Wan presses his lips together in a thin line. Years of thinking of what-ifs had made him a bit odd in the head, but regardless, he whispers, "I...want to believe that her presence...would have - "

"Been the voice of reason?"

They know the implications of the words. Ahsoka may not have been arrested. Anakin may not have been teetering on the edge. The chips in the clones would have been found. Someone would have traced everything back to Palpatine, and begun weeding out the rot in the government. Count Dooku could have been taken down a different way. Padmé wouldn't have been so terrified to seek help. Mandalore might have been saved sooner.

Everything would have been less shitty.

"Who was that pilot you were speaking too?"

Korkie rolls his eyes, glad the silence was broken. "Han Solo. A smuggler that defected from the Imperial Army. Saved a Wookie, worked with Enfys Nest, now owes Jabba a lot of money."

"Sense something unusual about him?" Obi-Wan asks, watching the smuggler and his Wookie co-pilot talk. He blinks, then let out a small chuckle. "I've seen that Wookie before."

"Really?"

"Mmm. Think I should use Solo to leave this dusty planet?"

"When the time comes. You have something up your sleeve, don't you?"

"I cannot fathom what you're talking about, my boy "

Korkie rolls his eyes. "You're insufferable."

"It's genetic, I'm afraid. So sorry Korkie."

"Well then," Korkie raises his glass in the air, having a sneaking suspicion to what his father is planning. "To genetics."

"To genetics."


	20. A New Narrative

Chapter Twenty: A New Narrative

* * *

When the capital city of Jedha is destroyed, Korkie stumbles, putting his hand against the wall and feeling vaguely ill. He is thankfully alone in the Sundari Palace, and holds his head, trying to determine what happened.

He won't find out until that night.

When the base at Scarif is hit, part of the Mandalorian fleet is landing in the Rebel base. He gets dizzy, ill, and his vision goes dark for a moment while he's unbuckling himself from the co-pilot's seat.

He learns pretty quickly what has happened.

When Alderaan is destroyed, it feels like a knife to the gut. The sheer agony and terror of millions of souls screaming makes him cry out as well, burying his head in his hands while everyone shouts and stares at the monitors, trying and failing to get a signal through.

He can faintly hear General Hera muttering, someone helping her stand, but he cannot focus on that.

He can only focus on the pain, the desperate, foolish hope that somebody from his past wasn't on planet.

A hand squeezes his shoulder.

"Deep breaths, kid. Deep breaths."

Korkie nods, trying to let air into his tight chest and letting it out slowly. "Thought you...hated me."

Rex gives a hoarse laugh. "Hate the son of one of my Generals? Never."

* * *

"He's so small."

"Well, Twi'lek's do have small babies."

"He's half human."

"Half Twi'lek too."

"Do you think his skin will change?"

"Rex, can I have my baby back?"

Rex smiles and holds Jacen closer to his chest. "I think I'll keep him, Hera. He'd make a good mascot."

Hera harrumphs, folding her arms over her chest and trying not to grimace at the tenderness of her breasts. "I'll let you Jacen be a mascot only if _someone _tells me what happened."

"I don't know what you're referring too." Rex lets out a small laugh when Jacen grabs his finger, trying to ignore the angry glare of the Twi'lek general lying on the medbay bed. Really, Yavin IV is not made for birthing children, but the medics have made do, and everything is, for a brief moment, _normal_. He wants it to stay that way, in a nice little bubble, holding Jacen Syndalla.

"_Rex. _What happened?" Her voice softens. "One moment we're learning about Princess Leia's capture, then we're trying to get a signal to Alderaan and then I'm in labor - "

"The Death Star blew up Alderaan...right when you went into labor."

_"What?" _She stares at him, the horrible pieces of the puzzle clicking into place, hoping she didn't hear correctly. Her little son starts to sniff and squirm, probably sensing her distress. "Give him to me."

Rex nods, carefully easing the baby into her arms. "We're trying to contact survivors but...we're not having much luck."

"Queen Breha? Viceroy..._no."_

* * *

"I hear you're announcing your parentage."

Korkie pauses, hair flopping in his face while he turns to look at her. "Aunt Bo - what a nice surprise. How was your trip to Coreilla?"

"Fine." Bo folds her arms over her chest, watching him start his lightsaber forms again. The purple blade moves hums through the air, stabbing at nothing. "I heard someone refer to you as Korkie Kenobi."

"Well technically," he waves a hand at the training droid, beginning to block oncoming blaster bolts. "It's true."

"Korkie! The Empire will kill anyone who bears that name!"

"They're gonna kill half of Stew-Jon? Boy, I hope" he sidesteps a bolt and grins at her. "I hope not."

"Can you turn that thing off?" Bo-Katan ignores the familiar eye-roll, and waits for silence in the training room. From one of her last conversations with Satine, she knew this room had been specifically built for Jedi. What that meant, she didn't exactly know, but her nephew apparently did, as he spent half of his time in the room they are standing in.

"Bo-Katan." Korkie clips his lightsaber to his belt and walks off the mat, gesturing to the bench behind her. They sit, and he takes the water container between them. "I'm erasing myself from this narrative by keeping the truth of my parentage quiet. I can't do that."

"You can't insert yourself into a narrative you have no part of."

"No part - my mother was a Mandalorian Duchess, my father a Jedi Master. I can and will be proud of my heritage, regardless of the danger."

"The danger is what I'm worried about, Korkie. You can't just go around claiming your a Jedi - _the Empire kills Jedi."_

"Then I die knowing - "

"Mandalore can't," Bo-Katan, watching her nephew frown at her in confusion. She shakes her head and whispers, "I can't lose you too. You're all that I have left, nephew...don't die doing something reckless and foolhardy."

"It's in my genes, Aunt Bo."

She sighs, wondering why her sister just _had _to sleep with a Jedi. "Then make us proud."

* * *

One second, the Prince of Mandalore is trying to cracking a joke while they practice disarming each other.

Then his knees buckle, and he's sinking to the mats, clutching at his head and crying.

"Korkie!" Rex scrambles over to the prince, remembering all the times his brothers and Jedi Generals had collapsed in pain. He never imagined he would be kneeling beside one of his General's children, hoping the white-face and clammy skin wasn't some Force related mess. "Korkie, are you okay?"

"I'm gonna be sick," Korkie muttered, eyes squeezed shut while he bent double, head nearly touching his legs. "I feel sick."

"There's probably a bucket some - "

"No - no." Korkie lets out a sob. "The Force. There...Dad's dead. He's dead."

Rex has never understood the finer points of the Force or the Jedi, but he does understand that this is serious - and that Korkie could very well head into shock. He ignores the fact that _Kenobi is alive...Bail lied...he lied...Obi-Wan is...is dead…_

"Korkie," he whispers, gripping Korkie's shoulders when the walls shake slightly. "Korkie, focus."

"He's dead, Rex. He's dead."

"I…Obi-Wan…"

Korkie glances up, tears falling down his face, looking scared and confused.

Rex sighs, pulling him into an embrace and combing his fingers through the prince's sweat-soaked hair, not sure how to react any more. "It's gonna be okay, kid. It's gonna be okay."

* * *

"_Skywalker?"_

It is then, when everyone from the Old Republic hears Commander Rex's broken whisper that they remember he served under a _Jedi_ General with the same surname.

"I doubt a relation is - " Mon Mothma begins before trailing into silence.

"Oh come _on_," Antilles mutters beside him. "The Jedi weren't celibate! General Skywalker could have easily left more than his cloak on any of the Outer-Rim planets."

_Doubtful_, Rex thinks to himself, imagining thinking of one lost Senator of Naboo. He shakes his head and speaks to the assembled. "Skywalker is a common surname taken by slaves in the Arkansis sector - we should tread caution in a subject regarding parentage...until we know otherwise."

"Odd words, coming from a clone," someone mutters.

"Surprised I'm empathic?" Rex asks, all gentleness in his voice gone.

In a strange way - he'll learn later - that he reminds the older leaders and soldiers of General Skywalker, the way he can crack a joke one moment and be deadly serious the next. It unnerves them, how similar the two are. When Luke Skywalker comes with Princess Organa and the smuggler Solo, all blonde hair and blue eyes and easy laugh and short stature and overconfidence - well, Rex has a hard time being around the boy.


	21. Hoth

Chapter Twenty-One: Hoth

* * *

"Goddesses, it's Amidala's demon droids!"

"Excuse me, my good sir, my name is C-3PO. I am - "

"Can it, Golden - "

"Hey Han - R2 get back here!"

_What the Force?_

Rex is about to push himself out from underneath the BTL-S3 Y-wing only to hear treads on the ice-covered ground, and a flurry of beeps and happy screeches - and get electrocuted in the foot.

He jolts, nearly dropping the wrench on his face before pushing himself and the dolley out from the underbelly of the ship.

An achingly familiar astromech beeps at the sight of him, rocking back and forth on it's treads and moving his domed head.

_'Buff Mandalorian!' _R2-D2 shrills happily. _'You're alive!'_

"Hello, old friend," Rex murmurs while sitting up, a bit bewildered why _R2-D2 _is before him and utterly thankful he understands binary.

'_Protocol Man? Orange Striped Child?'_

Rex cracks a sad smile, knowing who the droid was referring to - it caused his Generals to snicker every time it was uttered. "Cody...isn't here - but Ahsoka just left. You just missed her."

He glances up at hurried footsteps, feeling his stomach drop. _So this is who Korkie was talking about._

"I'm so sorry sir." The young man - _Skywalker's eyes, Amidala's face and height, General Skywalker what were you thinking? _"My droid seems to be friends with everyone."

"I don't know how a droid can be friends with anybody!" yells a Corellian man - Captain Solo, right - maneuvering a large box onto a gurney. The Wookie beside him chortles softly, the sound echoing through the empty Hoth hangar.

"Well," Rex leans over and rubs the domed head affectionately. "I just so happen to know him - we served together in the Clone Wars."

"You fought in the Clone Wars?"

"I did. My name's Commander Rex."

"Luke Skywalker," the boy stammers, shaking Rex's hand with a surprisingly strong gloved grip.

Rex swallows hard, studying the excited face. He glances down at R2, then back to where C-3PO - _Force, really Kenobi? Organa? People will recognize these metal idiots. Why didn't you destroy them?_ \- and chooses his words carefully. "Skywalker? I served under an Anakin Skywalker...any rel - "

"General Skywalker?!" Luke breaks out into a grin. "He's my father!"

_He doesn't know the truth...oh my God, he doesn't know._

"Really?" That's all he can say, that's all he _will _say, because just then he hears -

"Luke? Han?" A voice calls through the hangar, feminine and _holy shit this can't be happening. _Princess Organa comes closer, her small frame dwarfed by the many layers of insulation. "Chewie?"

"Your Worshipfulness - come to give me a welcome home kiss?"

"Did you shock yourself in that death trap, flyboy, to suggest such a thing?"

Rex shakes his head - the scene reminds him of a Duchess and Jedi General, flirting in Mando'a and making everyone within five standards meters vastly uncomfortable.

"Han!" Luke shouts, turning around briefly. "Stop picking on Leia!"

"Where's the fun in that? Chewie, you know I'm right!"

A growl fills the air. _'I'm staying out of this, cub.'_

"Thank you, Chewie. Luke I - Commander Rex," Princess Organa says in surprise when she gets closer. "How did your last mission go?"

"Princess." Rex dips his head in respect, nausea in his stomach while the young adults stand before him.

"It was good. Delivered supplies and got out without attracting too much trouble."

"That's a surprise - wasn't Prince Kryze leading the mission?"

"He does have a flair for the dramatics," Leia says dryly.

_Force, wait till Ahsoka hears about this._

* * *

"You should really be here, 'Soka. It's like all of them are here again - 'cept now…"

The hologram of Ahsoka Tano flickers while she smiles sadly, not looking while she checks the controls of her ship. "I'm not sure if that is the best idea, Rexie."

"Force, I better not find out you have a kid too."

"If I did they'd look like you Rex," Ahsoka quips, referring to the old Clone Wars rumor when their men thought they were an item. She sits down in the pilot's seat, taking a thermos from somewhere and bringing to her lips. "Rather sleep with a Sarlaac than a man."

Rex shakes his head, unwrapping the protective linen he had worn around his knuckles while sparring. "I can't quite believe any of them having a kid, " he rolls his eyes when she raises an eyebrow, "okay _maybe _Skywalker and Senator Amidala..._eventually _\- but Kenobi?"

"From what I heard he had quite a few people fawning over him - Cody, Master Tachi, Master Quinlan, Duchess Kryze, some woman named Ceresi, Viceroy Organa - "

"Viceroy Organa?"

She shrugs, swiveling in her pilot's chair. Even through the holo the streaks of hyperspace are visible. "Apparently Obi-Wan was handsome for a human male."

Rex - unable to help himself - laughs at her bluntness. He tosses the linen on the small, modest desk he has been provided in his cramped chambers and sits on the bed. "Can't believe this. How come no one realized?"

"Well...you know what happened to Senator Amidala. And Anakin…"

"I know - doesn't make any better. Luke and Leia shouldn't have been separated."

"You think they've figured it out?"

"No - and I'm keeping it that way. They... don't even know who their mother is. Korkie he...he was pretty livid when verifying all this."

Ahsoka hums, drawing her legs to her chest. "I would be too - I am, a little. Master Kenobi…he did what he thought was best..."

Rex manages a smile, scratching at his nose. "How's Sabine?"

* * *

Leia watches the Mandalorian from a distance, trying to figure out who he is. There are plenty of people who seem to know him - some were coming up and giving him a boisterous embrace, others were clasping his hand, and some were even _bowing._

That startles her, to be perfectly honest. _What person would bow to a Mandalorian warrior? _She stirs the stick of her caf cup, listening to Han, Wedge, and Luke bicker beside her. Something about ways to bypass the compressors? She doesn't quite know.

" 'ey sweetheart - who are you ogling over there?"

She jumps, scowling when her caf spills over the tables and instantly freezes. _Damn this frozen planet._

"Oh look - now you have an iced caf."

Wedge presses his lips together, doing his best not to laugh. Luke simply shakes his head, sipping at his hot chocolate.

"That man over there - "

"Black armor, red edging?" Han asks, following her gaze."Well I'll be damned."

"What? Owe money to him too?" Leia lets every bit of sarcasm leak into her words.

"Nu uh." Han watches the Mandalorian approach the table high command sat at, taking his helmet off and shaking out ginger hair.

"There's a lightsaber on his belt," Luke mutters, sounding sick. "He must have taken it from a Jedi."

"Then why is Commander Rex be hugging him? And General Hera?" Wedge answered, clearly baffled. "Luke, Commander Rex _served _the Jedi. He fought in the Clone Wars."

"You don't know who he is, Your Worshipfulness?"

"Should I?"

Han glows with some triumph - clearly he is enjoying knowing something she doesn't. He jerks his thumb in the Mandalorian's direction, keeping his voice low. "That's Prince Klaudius of Kalevala. Mand'alor Kryze's nephew."

"So?" Leia murmurs. She had learned quite a bit about the Kryze family - it was sad, really. Her father had always spoken fondly of Duchess Satine, how her wit could only match…her riddur. Whoever that was.

"Rumor has it ol' Korkie is claiming that he's a Kryze," Han glances to Luke a bit uneasily. "Kryze-Kenobi."

Luke's eyes widen. He twists about, staring at the Mandalorian prince in open-mouth astonishment. "That's...not possible. The Jedi...didn't have children."

Han glances Luke up and down, raising his eyebrows. He shrugs after a long, tense moment, raising his hands defensively. "Hey kid - I'm just repeating what I heard. Don't take it for truth."

* * *

Korkie doesn't sense the intruder right away. He - though he is loathe to admit it - is a bit hungover, okay, a lot - and trying to focus all his energy on walking forward in the bright-ass hallway of Hoth and not vomit the tea he has been sipping all morning.

The voice grates down his spine, so chipper and sounding _exactly _like Senator Amidala.

"Prince Kryze. Can I speak to you for a moment?"

He braces himself, trying to act casual while turning around. That's an epic fail in itself - he knows the black and red armor, Jedi robe, lightsaber, pistol, and the very fact he looks like _Obi-Wan Kenobi _makes it hard to be causal. He tries to keep a mask of indifference on his face too, tries to understand to shove down his resentment for this _kid _his father deemed worthy of protecting for nearly twenty years.

"Commander Skywalker," Korkie manages, gripping the thermos tightly. "What can I do for you? Surely it's too early to be doing research about the Jedi?"

Luke blinks, though he is not entirely surprised the older man knows of his fascination with the Jedi Order. He _is _surprised, however, by the indifference that he is receiving. This is the first time he has ever spoken to the Prince alone...and it's rather nerve-racking.

"Commander? Do you have a question for me, or can I head to my meeting in peace?"

"We have the same meeting - I'll walk with you?"

Korkie raises his eyebrows, and turns around with a beckoning gesture. "Kid - word of advice? Don't try to use a mind trick on a Force-user."

"Sorry," Luke mutters, falling into place beside him. "Had to try - I recently read about it and your dad always - "

"I admire your persistence...and speaking of your persistence - Commander Rex keeps telling me you've been asking when my return to base would be."

"We seem to be always missing each other - Han thought you were avoiding me."

_Solo's not entirely wrong. _"Being a Prince isn't exactly a part-time job, Commander."

"I'd imagine not." Luke nods to General Ackbar when they pass him. "Your Highness...I wanted to ask some questions about the Jedi...mainly about Old Ben, if you have any."

Korkie halts, staring at the doors of the meeting chambers only meters away, watching people he has worked with and trusted for years file into the doors, bleary-eyed and shivering. He can spot Princess Leia and Captain Solo - arguing, as usual - walking into one of the few rooms with heating units. He swallows hard. "_Old Ben_?"

"Yeah... something wrong?"

"My father's name was Obi-Wan." Prince Kryze gives a small laugh, aware some people are beginning to take notice of the two. He doesn't care - there are enough rumors flying around him nowadays. "That name, Luke Skywalker _\- Ben _\- was given to him by my mother."

"I didn't know."

"No, of course you wouldn't have. My father loved his secrets and his words. It was because of his silver tongue the Galaxy worshipped him and Satine Kryze loved him." He gives a small, sadistic smile. "But he loved Anakin Skywalker more than he ever loved me or my mother. It only makes sense he would watch over a Skywalker on a joke of a planet."

Luke narrows his eyes, the infamous Skywalker - no, not Skywalker..._Naberrie _\- rage bubbling forth. "That's my home - and my father - you are talking about."

"Your father was from there - did you know that? Born a slave, freed by the Jedi, and imprisoned in a cult."

"The Jedi weren't a cult."

Korkie raises his eyebrows, wondering what is really speaking - the alcohol still coursing through his veins...or himself. "Well...perhaps I am wrong, and you're just listening to the bitter words of a man who has been ready to die these last two decades."

Luke swallows, staring at the elder man. "How can you be so cryptic? The Jedi...Ben - Obi-Wan - was your _father. _How - "

"Life hardens you, Commander - just like it hardens everyone. Do not think you can raise the Jedi from the ashes and start again, just how it was. They were a stagnant society...and our parents got caught in the crossfires." He turns on his heel, not wanting to speak anymore for fear of crying.

"Parents?" Luke yells after him. "You knew my mother?"

Korkie keeps walking - there was no sense in giving the boy more heartache.

Their father's have caused him enough.


	22. A New Beginning

Chapter Twenty-Two: A New Beginning

* * *

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck - "

Bo-Katan only had enough time to turn around in her seat and open her mouth before -

Korkie scrambles onto the shuttle and began the start up procedure, mumbling, "_This _is why I don't let Skywalker on my missions."

Whatever had happened, Bo-Katan waves him to the pilot's seat and opens the channels.

The ship rocked, and gunfire came from somewhere close to them.

"What the fuck did you do?" Bo-Katan exclaims while the shuttle rises into the air.

"_Something that could have been avoided!" _a voice shouted over the transmissions.

"You know what Skywalker?" Korkie yells back, yanking on the controls and out of the atmosphere of the Imperial occupied planet. They had been delivering supplies to the inhabitants, and then _someone _had gone and used the Force to show off. He swerved to avoid blasterfire, muttering, "Skywalker's."

"_Will you two stop flirting and get these piles of junk into the air?"_ Leia Organa shouts back from the co-pilot's seat of the Millennium Falcon. "_I would kind of like to live!"_

"_How 'bout you stop shouting in my ear princess!"_ Captain Solo roars - though he sounds more panicked than frustrated. "_Luke, take the pilot seat - Leia and I will be the gunners!"_

"_Wait one - "_

"_Come on Your Worshipfulness - Chewie, keep being the co-pilot!_

"Damn Skywalker," Korkie muttered while their respective ships enter the atmosphere and into a battle. "Fuck, this ain't good."

Bo-Katan shakes her head, engaging the gunner. "What would your mother say about that mouth?"

"She spoke worse and far less elegantly most of the time," Korkie swerves tight to right, realizing that Skywalker swerved tight to the left without even being told. Their respective gunners aimed, destroying four Imperial fighters in one fell swoop.

A slightly feral grin worked over his face.

_The Skywalker-Kenobi ariel spin...well I'll be damned…_

He flicked to the pilot's private channel, overriding the Imperials attempt to jam them. "Skywalker - you've watched those space holos of your dad and mine?"

"_Mmm hmm…" _Luke sounds strained, either because of the conversation or the situation their in - it's probably a bit of both.

"Care to do a little bit of that?"

* * *

Luke - leaning against a tree on Endor - watches quietly while the Mando'a command touches down on the landing bay. Everyone in the Rebellion cheers, watching the pilots exit their fighters. Apparently the Mandalorian fleet had aided the humanitarian efforts, protecting citizens from confused Imperials not knowing what was happening, taking down local warlords that tried to seize power, protecting hospitals and trade routes.

He half-wonders how much blood was on the hands of the Mandalorian prince, who is receiving whoops and claps on the back, laughing among everyone he had fought beside for the past two decades. Klaudius at one point appears to catch Luke's eye, his smile faltering before he turns away, distracted by General Hera and Leia.

"You should talk to him."

He jumps, peering upwards to look at the grizzled face of Commander Rex. "Speak to whom?"

Commander Rex rolls his eyes, though he looks more amused than irritated. "Skywalker's and Kenobi's - you guys never seem to want to communicate with each other."

"Anakin and Ben - Obi-Wan - I thought they were friends?"

"Oh, they were...but they never did learn to talk to each other." Rex sighs, folding his arms over his chest. He seems to age fifty years, lost in memories of better times. "My brothers and I used to talk about locking them in a closet and not letting them out until they had no secrets between them."

He put a heavy hand on Luke's shoulder, giving a small smile. "Don't make the same mistakes this generation, Luke Skywalker."

* * *

"Hey Leia."

Leia glances from her pile of flimsi to Han at the entryway of the mainhold, furrowing her brow at his concern. "Hmm?"

"Have you seen Luke? He's been missing all night and we had a meeting -" Han cranes his neck to look at the chrono behind him. "We have a meeting in less than - "

Footsteps sound around the ramp and through the hallways. Chewie's grumbles are heard, followed by a rough chuckle.

Han frowns at her, silently asking who it might be. She shrugs, but their question is answered within a moment.

"Commander Rex," Leia asks in surprise. Though it wasn't a secret she and Han were together - she _had_ risked a mission to Tatooine and sleeps in the _Falcon _for goodness sakes - but still. This man had known her father - well, Bail _and _Anakin - and it is a little weird, having someone from command standing in a place that was supposed to be safe, where she could be Leia Organa and not Her Highness or Commander.

Han looks similarly uncomfortable, glancing at her briefly before leaning into the molding and crossing his arms lazily over his chest. "Chewie, you brought a friend."

"_He was loitering outside the Falcon - I took pity."_

Rex rolls his eyes, though a smile could be seen through his beard. "Have you seen Korkie - Prince Klaudius? He disappeared last night and he needs to be present at that holo meeting with Yavin 4."

Han scratches at his chin, furrowing his brow. "No - have you seen Luke?"

"No…"

"Well Endor isn't very big," Leia points out, leaning back against the cushions. "They couldn't have gone far."

"You don't think they're together, do…" Rex frowned, trying to think back to the previous night. "Well...I did tell Luke to try and work things out with Korkie…"

"_I saw them together last night on my nightly walk," _Chewie supplied, moving to sit across from Leia. "_Separated pretty fast when they sensed me."_

The words took a second to sink in for everyone.

Rex stared at Han, utterly confused for a moment before beginning to giggle. "Korkie _is _a Kenobi."

Han wrinkled his nose, looking vaguely green. "That's disgusting."

"You've been with men, Han," Leia supplied, sighing in exasperation.

"Yeah but - not in a _forest. _Where people can _see."_

"Kenobi - always chasing after Skywalker," Rex shakes his head and snorts.

"I thought you would be into that, Han."

Chewie glances at Leia, perplexion in his eyes. "_I will never understand why humans are so embarrassed by love-making - it's natural and healthy."_

* * *

"The Republic free my ass," Rex mutters, leaning back in his seat. "I should drag them back to Kamino, show them how free it was."

Korkie - lounging in his seat - gives a small smirk. "Wanna come to Mandalore? It's a shitshow there."

"Hard pass."

"We should have a drinking game," Mona - a former Separatist murmurs on the other side of Korkie. "Take a shot every time one of those idiots says something about freedom and democracy - we just felled an Empire, the least we can do is talk about how the Republic _failed _and how to prevent it from happening again."

Korkie reaches underneath his robe and pulls out a flask. He hands it to Mona beside him, whom murmurs bemused thanks.

Mon Mothma must have heard them talking, because she turns around and glares while Admiral Ackbar speaks about the new mission - something about running humanitarian supplies to aE planet that is still Empire controlled.

Korkie waves at her, knowing he probably should have been paying attention - but it's rare he can speak to Rex for more than five minutes without being interrupted. He'll take all the time talking to the elder man he can... it's one of the only living connections to his father he has left.

"We used to play bullshit bingo," Rex whispers when Mon stops looking at them. "During strategy meetings with Skywalker and your dad - tried to guess which one of them would do something stupid - and in what order."

"Wow, Skywalker doing something stupid? How shocking."

From the row of seats below, Luke Skywalker turns around and fixes them - well Korkie - a glare.

Korkie gives a wink, chuckling to himself when Luke rolls his eyes and back around.

Rex sighs heavily. "You two ever gonna get along."

"Sure," Korkie grins wickedly. "We got along just fine last night."

"...in the forest? Really?" Rex mutters, grimacing.

* * *

"I haven't thanked you enough for coming, Prince Kryze."

He turned his gaze to the younger, still innocent younger man. There was a part of him that resented the company, but...did that really matter now? Forcing a smile, he said, "Korkie is fine, Commander Skywalker. It's just us."

Luke blinked, not sure about the sudden familiarity. He shook his his, and glanced back to the foreboding building before them. Even from here he could feel the prickles of pain, and distantly hear the screams of hundreds. "Ever been here before?"

"Twice. Once on business for Mandalore and once to visit my father."

"Jedi were allowed to have guests?"

Korkie snorted, beginning to walk forward. "_Allowed, _isn't the right word, Luke but…" he shrugged, ignoring the whispers of the dead crowding his mind. "My father often did what he wanted - and who was deny the Prince Kryze-Kenobi of Mandalore?"

Luke nods, staring at what was once the Jedi Temple. "Well...you ready?"

"No."

"Neither am I."

* * *

"Here," Korkie murmurs in one of the hallways, walking to one of the windows. "Pops used to say the view from here was the best in the Temple."

Luke raises his eyebrows, and slowly follows the Mandalorian prince. He stares out the window, studying the skyline. There's nothing special - he can feel the trillions of souls pulsing on the city planet, busily moving. From what he had been told, the lower levels of the planet had barely been affected by the Empire.

He wonders if some of them even knew about the Empire.

"What's so special about this spot?"

Korkie pulls a small smile, pointing in the distance. "You see at building to the right? Made of blue glass? With the sunset shining on it?"

"Yeah…"

"My mother's - she bought that place when I was born. Her apartment was at the top - an entire penthouse, just for me, Pops, and her." Korkie's smile is sad. "I'm surprised Palps didn't destroy it."

Luke glances at the Mandalorian prince, and sighed. "Korkie...when I went back to Tatooine...I found some things...journals written by your father...how to build a lightsaber...and some holos-"

"And?" Korkie asks softly, staring out the Coruscanti skyline.

"I found this too." He pulls out a small box from his knapsack and presented it carefully. "I recognized the Mandalorian carvings...I thought you might want it. I didn't open it. Didn't think it was right."

Korkie takes the box with shaking hands, his eyes glassy. "Dad must have carved this by himself…he always wanted to start woodworking." He presses his lips together, and gently sets the box on the windowsill. The lid is an old-style mechanism, and he opens it easily.

"What's in it?"

"Holoprojector...a comlink...a deed to a hut...what?" Korkie prodds at a small sack before cautiously opening it and shaking out the contents. Two rings dropped into his hand - the first a delicate band of silver, the second a chunky band of - and both with the engraving 'cyar'ika riddur.' He presses a hand to his mouth, unable to keep the tears at bay.

"Are those wedding rings?" Luke asks in shock.

"Yeah...yeah. I knew he wanted to leave the Order when the war was over but...I didn't realize they - "

"We didn't marry, Klaudius. I bought those before she died."

Korkie closes his eyes, not wanting to turn around... because if he does, he will have to face his father, and be unable to embrace him.

"Pity - they are quite beautiful. I would have loved to witness your mother wearing a ring."

"Korkie," Luke whispers. "I think you should turn around."

He does, blinking rapidly. There in front of him...Obi-Wan Kenobi, smiling sadly and white hair and baggy robes.

"I thought Force ghosts were a myth." Korkie is unable to tear his gaze away. He closes his fist around the rings, trying to keep himself from shaking.

Obi-Wan cracks a small smile. "Qui-Gon's studies were beneficial after all."

"Why now?" Korkie begs, listening to his voice crack. He feels somewhat stupid - a grown man, a grown man begging his father for retribution. "Why visit me now? Why leave me alone?"

"I... there's no excuse for that, is there?"

"No...no. Pops - "

"I am proud of you, Korkie - your mother is too."

Korkie stares at the floor, watching the tiles blur together.

"Though she did want to say to having such foolhardy plans - and to stop losing your cloaks."

He cracks a grin, thinking of all that could have been.


End file.
